As I watched him prepare to shoot up on the bathroom floor, I felt a mix of fear, horror, fascination and arousal.
He didn’t tie that rubber thingy around his arm like I’d seen Diana Ross do in Lady Sings the Blues. Then again, this was no movie.
“You’re beautiful,” I said. “So fuckin’ beautiful. Anyone ever tell you that?”
His eyes cut up to me and sparkled; his thuggish craftiness faded. He could have been a wholesome, doe-eyed Norman Rockwell painting.
“Yeah," he smiled, displaying teeth surprisingly white. “Sometimes.”
He wasn’t a junkie anymore, just a beautiful young man sitting on the floor next to my toilet. Or maybe a handsome leading man, playing the hell out of his junkie role: Wardrobe had done a great job of making him disheveled, and make-up was on point too, giving him that hollow, hungry look.
But as our eyes locked, I saw the real José. I wanted to bend down and kiss those lips, stroke that angular cheekbone. I wanted to peel that dirty oversized shirt from his lanky frame, massage him with lavender oil; wanted to loosen that ponytail, so I could brush his black mane until it gleamed like it was meant to. And then his hair could hang wild, savage, and tickle my flesh as I held him close, kissed him, made love to him, again and again.
“Why you wanna watch this shit, pa?”
“I don’t know,” I responded. He was so young, so classically handsome. I heard myself saying, “With your looks, you could be . . . do anything you want. Why this?”
His innocence faded, the cameras stopped and the leading man stormed off the set. He slapped his arm like a baby’s butt and said, “Same reason you wanna watch.” ~~
"People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. I don't believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and if they can't find them, they make them." -- George Bernard Shaw
Dancing With The Devil
by Taylor Siluwé
SHORT STORY FICTION / EROTICA TO PREVIEW, CLICK ON THE IMAGE AND/OR PURCHASE FOR $11.99
More Than Mortar and Stone: The Meandering Mental Path of a Brokenhearted Woman
by Fisiwe MEMOIRS AND POEMSTO PREVIEW, CLICK ON THE IMAGE AND/OR PURCHASE FOR $6.99
My Ancestors Traveled Them Home
by Chuma MEMOIRS AND POEMSTO PREVIEW, CLICK ON THE IMAGE AND/OR PURCHASE FOR $5.99
A SOCIO-ANTHROPOLOGICAL CROSS GENRE THESIS DEALING WITH RACE, CLASS, AND GENDER
COREY delivers a defly written post entitled Audacity of Change regarding his feelings about Obama becoming our president. Check it out at his blog, I'll Keep You Posted.
December 17, 2008
QIANA MARTIN, DREAM FULFILLER
One of the most thoughtful and spiritually grounded people I know, Qiana Martin took a risk and jumped on an opportunity to go to Brazil to fulfill a dream many would be fearful to try. In these profoundly dreary economic times, quitting a job at a prestigious law firm to pursue a passion is rare and courageous. Read her story here.
December 16, 2008
MARCOS LUIS, THE ART OF GIVING
My buddy, Marcos Luis, runs an Open Mic Showcase in Alphabet City, and he's being featured in an online blog called NewYorkNightsOnline.com. He's a really special person who wants nothing but to give back to the artistic community. Check out the article here.
December 8, 2008
CLEO MANAGO, LEADING MAN
Acitivist, Cleo Manago is honored as a 2008 Leading Man in Instinct Magazine.
Odetta, the singer whose deep voice wove together the strongest songs of American folk music and became an accompaniment to the black-and-white images of the freedom marchers who walked the roads of Alabama and Mississippi and the boulevards of Washington in quest of an end to racial discrimination, died on Tuesday, Dec. 2, 2008 at the age of 77. Read more.