When I get an idea for a poem or a story, there is usually a nugget of someone or something that triggers it. I can take a phrase someone says, like, “I’ve never been eye-fucked that much,” and spin that into a whole thing. I can catch someone’s smile or the curve of a bicep and see a full story in my head.
I try and get to New Orleans a few times a year. There is a man there who is orbiting my intimate space. We have been talking since October 2023 and met in person in January 2024. We were unable to connect while I was at JazzFest that year because I got sick, but we text pretty regularly. It is almost always just checking in on our days, sharing music, or talking about the news. On purpose, we have kept it not spicy.
But in my head… oh lordy. He is my main muse.
Yesterday, while I was mowing my lawn, excited about being in New Orleans again, and listening to a French artist named Keen’V, I thought about this New Orleans man. He is smart—multiple degrees—kind, sweet, and funny in a low-key, dry way. He is hot AF (of course), with the lagniappe of being Haitian. So, all that and a bag of French accent chips. And he doesn’t think he is—he has no swagger—which is even hotter.
While I was mowing, I saw the first chapter of what I think will be a full book or maybe a collection of short stories. I sat down and started writing.
This is a fantasy of the man, not based on any reality other than the general outline and that accent. This all stays a fantasy. Our reality is going to be very, very different, and it is really important to keep that front of mind. It’s why we keep our texts PG-13.
When people are on sites like FetLife it’s easy to get caught up in all the hot, naked pics, or pics of Shibari, or welted flesh, or whatever.
But at the end of the day, it is nowhere near reality. I’ve had enough interactions in my lifetime to know that putting all the power into the fantasy is a guarantee of disappointment. It’s chasing a high that cannot be sustained. It also puts a lot of pressure on everyone to not be their fully authentic self—warts and all, as they say. First meet encounters where all previous interaction has been the fantasy are empty calories. Delicious initially as a binge but ultimately not nutritious for body or soul.
Just a reminder to take a step back and make sure you’re keeping reality up front and center.