fel-oldódás

red phase.
a movie you watch with three male friends, resting your tired head on a shoulder unknown to you and not-belonging. a film about italian men and hungarian women, about dreams and realities. a film not your choice.
big cheers for the creators, actors...Franco Nero who is not present but in our minds
big discussions standing in a smoky room built for the occasion
- pointing out filmmakers, producers, acters and actresses - beer sinks in your veins and you set in motion creating witty word-jokes touching the untoughable surface of males, feeling the power of the predator, the lady in red, the very sexual part of myself.

sex, that sweet curse, that which you blame for big losses
your overwhelming sexuality
your need to be controlled
but almost total inability to give in or over
power
strenght
a figth for joy and pain
sex, that sweet feeling of dissolving in the arms of a powerful man
losing control
disappearing like sugar dipped in caffé
boundaries disappearing and finally entering a soul
and screaming with joy
bodies fighting for-or-against each other:
unity.

i think back and forward, wondering if i am a sexual predator
a woman who engulfs her prey in the act of love
a woman who becomes lost at sea
yet sets out to sail
a woman who fears losing control
yet yearns nothing more than the presence of a man strong enough to win over her

cheating is only possible if you fuck without your heart
but in that case the joy is lost
and all is left is some pounds of flesh hungry for a touch
an abandoned heart beating in your chest
and all becomes meaningless
an act of violence against yourself
in my case.
i wonder whether i envy or pity those without a heart
those whores(fe/male) who have sex
but dont remember love.