Submissions are accepted on a regular basis, year-round.
Can include, short stories, essays, poetry and prose.
Must not exceed 3,000 words.
Must be written by a current ESA student, or alumni.
Submissions are accepted:

Thursday, 22 January 2015

By: Alana Staszczyszyn

Oh, I remember that night...

A crisp and cool New Year’s Eve,
I remember.
We’d thought to make it another memorable night.
Yes, I think we accomplished our goal.
I remember...
Amidst that grimy, grooving beat,
Beneath the blaring, blazing lights.
A night beyond all other nights,
For, I discovered, you had my heart in chains.

You had hooked my heart
and reeled me in.
Brought me time and time before,
time and time again,
to our eternal paradise.
And here we were again that night,
dancing beneath the foggy lights,
you brought me home to heaven once again.

I think that, there, that night, they fell:
my chains of liberation.
You held my body,
we moved in time,
I thought, perhaps, you might be mine,
and just then a shadow appeared,
whispering softly into my ear,
that I had your heart in chains.

I remember then, my heart broke free,
as I ripped the chains that bound me to my fears.
They whipped into the air,
and soared across the floor,
and there I was, dancing,
dancing with the chains of liberation.
You watched me weave them round my arms,
between my hands, my fingers,
my neck, my lips,
and just then I felt your desire,
thick within the room,
to grab me there and hold me down
and draw me close to you.
Yes, my darling, I was free,
No longer a pet of some distant fear,
but rather a pet to do your bidding.

And I remember when you wrapped me up in chains,
and I gave myself entirely to you.
You tied my hands
and bound my feet,
Leaving only my lips free to caress your neck...
Oh, you treated me so well,
Tending to every gasp and moan and sigh,
And as you held me down and kissed my neck,
You whispered such pretty things into my ear.
I wasn’t sure if you said “I fucking love you,”
“I love fucking you,”
but, truth be told,
I think the message was merely the same in those frantic moments anyways.

And oh, it really doesn’t matter which one I heard.
For those moments we shared were so much more than just words;
I remember how we lay for countless hours,
Never making a noise,
Never uttering a word,
For words could never do the moment justice
to describe the way I lost myself to you.
We’d lay, our faces buried into each other’s neck,
for several seconds or minutes or sometimes even hours...
and I think we both knew what we wanted to say.
Those sacred words,
hanging so silently over our heads, oh,
you could feel them in the air, whispering,
“I love you!”
Yet, in the end, I’m not so sure it would have been necessary.
No, truthfully, we’d said it time and time before,
Time and time again,
Through the way we’d rock our bodies, in time,
to the designs we’d etch on each other’s skin.
The truth is, with every breath we breathed together,
and every careful, tender touch,
and as you listened to my every movement,
my every silent thought,
my every emotion,
we said “I love you,”
again and again,
yes, as you ran your fingers along my skin,
and felt me move beneath you.

But you see, my love,
This is the mistake they all make,
as they watch me bow before your feet;
To them I am a slave,
to them I am not free,
to them I ever wear your brand
and have lost to you my dignity.
But the truth is much more gracious.
What they do not know is that
within your chains I roam so free:
free to live,
free to love, 
free to be the highest I can be.

No, you see,
I love the way you love to own me,
and I love the way you show your love to me,
through the way you cradle me in your arms,
and the way you pull me close
and kiss me in your sleep.
And I love how you bite my neck when we make love,
and I love the way you love to possess me,
and within your iron grip, your chains,
I reach far beyond what they care to see or believe.

And you see, my darlings, that this story does not have just one side,
for I too have His heart in chains.
You see, the taboo you have created,
creates destruction from severity,
but overlooks the powerful infatuation we have
of sensuality and sensitivity
through the medium of sexuality.
Through His effort and His care,
He wins a prize so sacred:
an undeniable, irrefutable trust,
a loyalty that does quell all lust,
and the submission that shall be entrusted never to another.

And through my trembling skin,
and ecstatic sighs,
His gentle hand is guided;
He knows my soul,
He hears my call,
and He stands guard,
on the line between my pleasure and my injury.
And I wear my mark of Him with pride
through the dangling bell beneath my chin;
For never is it a mark of shame
to be owned by Him, and only Him.

And the truth is, my dear,
as bold as I do appear,
I’m not the best with words;
I take this moment to admit to you my gratitude.
With you I move in a way I cannot be moved,
with you I’m shown that love has truth,
With every punishment comes every care,
Of my own power I become aware

And I want you to know I acknowledge your being in its entirety:
your heart,
your body,
your soul.
I bow to your power,
I admire your grace,
I yearn for your warmth,
And am awed by your strength.

To you now, my heart is ever enslaved,
for you hold the chains of liberation.
Let it be universally acknowledged that to you I gift:
my heart,
my body,
and my soul,

For I find my highest powers

through submitting myself to you.

No comments:

Post a Comment