.

.

Wednesday, September 25, 2024

He Also Serves - A Waterman Tale by Moe


She sits alone, contemplating the subtle raindrops tapping at her window. Music, love... ease. With a glass of wine in her hand as soft tunes play in the background. Her kids are with their dad for the weekend, and she's feeling a sense of longing. A longing for the man who would not leave her heart in peace and the man her mind could not so easily erase. A man who would show up even in her dreams at times like a welcome intruder come to fulfill a fantasy. An untapped secret... rarely ever spoken of. Even... when she was with someone else. Herself, being a woman of substance and stature, she knows what she has and who she is, is set in stone. Seasoned enough to know that a sweet taste of something that lingers like an echo ecstatic in the heart is so much sweeter than what remains ordinary in the humdrum of daily life. Tonight, her will is yearning for the taste. Like a woman in command, she picks up her phone and texts three simple words... "I need you...". Only ten minutes later, he responds with: "Ok love... when and where. "

Waterman, sitting by candlelight, was picking at his guitar at the time he received that text. He read it and smiled... knowing all too well exactly what it was for. He was not the slut many stereotyped him to be. No, he was very selective in his choices... as well as eclectic. He knew this was special. A seasoned man that understood and practiced in the ebbs and flow of passion, that had little desire to posess anyone or become a posession himself. In a world where so many seek the fragile delusion of a stability made unstable by a fickle society, he had decided that the transparency found in being brutally honest and up front about the fleeting nature of a thing meant that it could blossom into anything the winds required. Found in the freedom to love and express an unbridled passion in the moment without the anchors of expectation. Tonight, he knew this was not an invitation to become a couple or a request to change a life or two. No, it was an invitation to do what he had a passion for. To experience a moment of want and desire with greatness. To serve in a capacity that brought pleasure. Not for an agenda or something so surface as lust... but to be able to please a beautiful woman he was connected to. A woman, he could call one of his own. To fulfill a part of what he felt he was designed for. Even if just for the one night... he knew it would reverberate throughout time as a memory worthy to recall if ever a moment called for the evidence of passion. He prepared for the night ahead as he would normally do and waited on his location.

About an hour later, he got the address to a hotel halfway between them both. She knew what she wanted and made every preparation needed for the night. This... was a woman among women. She wasn't interested in protocols or lists. She wanted what she wanted and she didn't care about the critism should anyone find out. Even still, discretion was paramount as this was something she would NOT normally do but her need to have him superceded her common practice and of course, Waterman understood. 

Symbiosis took place that night. Expressed in every way imaginable to the backdrop of a Jon Hassel melody. Where nothing was off limits and every glide was sweet and fine. Soft and hard... fast and slow. It was a night where two people made love, assuming they would part ways the next day... never to see each other again. They took their time... every time.

As it was, after very little sleep and a water conservation shower (showering together), they walked out of the hotel room kissing, as they held on to each other for dear life. For that long night up until the rising of the sun... they were a couple... and it was beautiful. 

Now, some would call this a booty call, but in retrospect... it was way more for them both. It was the natural fulfillment of a connection shared in purity of purpose and design. A night produced with an understanding and a care between two souls seasoned enough to know what it could mean. A night where a woman took the world into her own hands towards the fulfillment of a long since held fantasy. Knowing the one she chose was not just up for the task... but that it was his fantasy as well... just as much as it was hers.

And so it went... until the next time ;-)

~moses apollo


Sunday, September 22, 2024

"Wait, I Say..."...

 

"...fly away... i'll never be the same.  shhhh..."


"wait'll they get a load of me..."


~moses apollo apolinaris

Monday, September 16, 2024

Permanent...

 


"but when you're lovin me I'm fine
so love me... just one more time
'cause when I said, "I love you"
that's forever

and I'm trying to reach you

do you remember when... we touch
like old friends
and I smile at you
then we both start laughin"

when the future proves our past... verses from Draco Rosa's "Mad Love" that will forever remain relevant. why? "just because"... is permanent my love ;-)

~moses apollo


Tuesday, September 10, 2024

The Seasoned Few...

"...you'll never know the top till you get too low..."

I confess to lust, to want, to need, to desire... and to love. I confess to allowing myself the vulnerability of a poetic fool that would still travel miles for just a kiss. All under the inspiration of what most would now deem a "fairy tale". I confess... I still believe in "forever". I still believe in an orgasm that lingers beyond the night into beautiful memory. I still believe in missing what you've only had at heart. I still believe in an "us" that is capable of flourishing in turbulent flight. In an "us" that finds a way to turn that turbulence into a passion dance... choreographed by the unique combination of our souls alone. Whose stage is found in the eye of a storm specifically designed with the union of our two bodies in mind. I still believe...

And so we stand... we push no matter what has happened. As though only seconds on a speed bump of caution had slowed us down to life. All with a purpose in mind. With lessons formed as scars upon the skins of our souls. All, in order to lean into a newly branded perspective far from bitterness. A perspective that proves the most important parts of ourselves are immovable and unshakable. Parts that loudly declare that we are not the type to surrender to the fickleness of this age. That our substance is real and that our faith, hope and love are worth fighting for. We stand... we press... we fight. All the while... makin this sh*t look good ;-) 

Oh and we ain't done yet. We have chapters to write. Both together... as well as apart. Chapters on discovery, evolution, purpose and passion. Chapters on love and hope that will move even the most adventurous to shiver at the telling. Neither young, nor old... we are the seasoned few. Seasoned by a pain, grief, loss or struggle that came to break us... but that only managed to slightly bend us instead towards a clearer vision of all that we truly are. In a world where everything tastes the same... we stand apart now. And the more we face... the less blandness we will embrace. It's just the way of things... accept it. Understand your worth and allow life's lessons to keep you in check but rehearse this reality in your soul: false humility is a virtue signal we can no longer afford to indulge. I'm out...

~moses apollo   

Monday, September 2, 2024

Another Night... Another Dream...


Dream 9/1/2024

I went to go visit a friend at her home... she was apparently sickly but I didn't know what she had. I walked into the kitchen and gave her a big hug but she had this look on her face like something was bugging her. As soon as our hug ended, in comes this man that was taking care of her. He was wearing what looked like a white half apron that covered only his lower half down to half his thigh and yes, he was fully clothed. He was annoyed that she was out of bed and was acting like he had been doing overtime taking care of her. Almost like an overinvolved nursemaid. He also had the look and attitude of a liberal politician named Sherrod Brown... in both appearance and maybe even politics. In his annoyance, he scolded her saying "you should be in bed!! we need you to get better now!!". When he said this, she looked back at me as she was walking away as if to say "my problem is this man".

As he began to follow her, I stopped him and said "don't worry, I'll walk up with her". He didn't like that one bit. As I walked into her room with her, she began to explain that she was done with his excessive babying. She wanted to spend time on her pastime outside but that he wouldn't allow her to. She actually felt that his Lording over her every move was either making her feel worse... or prolonging her illness. She was done. In an instant, I felt a rushed intuition that this was being done on purpose to control her. To keep her in perpetual state of care kept her both weak and compliant. This was an evil...

I told her to get dressed and to go outside... I'd handle him. She got dressed and went downstairs. He immediately became irate and began once again telling her that she needed her rest. I told him to back off and explained that she actually needed to be outside to improve. His response was akin to "I know what she needs better than you do!!" and THAT was enough to stoke my anger towards violence. I rushed to get in his face and he backed off and said "Fine!!". He took off his little apron, said "she's all yours now!!" and left in the huff of a small man's hissy fit. I just held her for a bit and woke up. As I woke, I heard a phrase that was fading out:

"sometimes those that come to heal... can actually make us worse"

In case you missed it... this isn't about me being anyone's hero. It's about knowing which "heroes" are in it for YOU... or themselves. Stay hip my loves... I'm out

~moses apollo