[Letters] Day 6 - To a Stranger
Jul. 10th, 2010 11:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thepainted_ladyDear rube,
It’s probably rude of me to call you that, to lump you in with all the rest. You think you’re special, I’m sure. I should know your name, remember it, carry it inside like some precious treasure locked in my heart. I saw you, touched something in you--no one has ever known you that way, understood you so clearly, spoken so honestly to you about the things you want, need most.
Did you tell your friends about your magical night, afterward? That the beautiful girl at the carnival picked you, smiled at you, chose you to stay after hours. How when the lights turned off, and the music died down, she took you back to her trailer and did things to you that you didn’t think people actually did outside of movies. Do you brag about it, now, the things you did to me, the way I fit into every sick fantasy you’ve ever had?
Or are you one of the quiet ones, one who thought we connected, that you saw me as surely as I saw you. Was I shy and tender? Did you make me sigh and hold you a bit tighter? Did I remember your name, then, and when the morning came, did you beg me to stay with you? You could take me away from all this, give me a better life. You were sweet.
I don’t remember your names, either of you, any of you, just that you were less objectionable than the ones who thought they had the right. You, at least, had the courtesy to ask. Maybe I should apologize for not remembering more, but I’m not going to. I’m a story you tell. You’re a way to fill the nights, to push back memories, faces that blur together. Another town, another face. You’re not who I want, not what I want, but you’ll do, and if you have something we need, even better. You’ll come back the next time we’re in town. Maybe I’ll choose you again--or maybe this time it will be your best friend.
You get the story, the fantasy, the thrill.
And I get a night of not having to be alone.
Thank you for that,
The Exotic Temptress
[Complete List of Letters.]
It’s probably rude of me to call you that, to lump you in with all the rest. You think you’re special, I’m sure. I should know your name, remember it, carry it inside like some precious treasure locked in my heart. I saw you, touched something in you--no one has ever known you that way, understood you so clearly, spoken so honestly to you about the things you want, need most.
Did you tell your friends about your magical night, afterward? That the beautiful girl at the carnival picked you, smiled at you, chose you to stay after hours. How when the lights turned off, and the music died down, she took you back to her trailer and did things to you that you didn’t think people actually did outside of movies. Do you brag about it, now, the things you did to me, the way I fit into every sick fantasy you’ve ever had?
Or are you one of the quiet ones, one who thought we connected, that you saw me as surely as I saw you. Was I shy and tender? Did you make me sigh and hold you a bit tighter? Did I remember your name, then, and when the morning came, did you beg me to stay with you? You could take me away from all this, give me a better life. You were sweet.
I don’t remember your names, either of you, any of you, just that you were less objectionable than the ones who thought they had the right. You, at least, had the courtesy to ask. Maybe I should apologize for not remembering more, but I’m not going to. I’m a story you tell. You’re a way to fill the nights, to push back memories, faces that blur together. Another town, another face. You’re not who I want, not what I want, but you’ll do, and if you have something we need, even better. You’ll come back the next time we’re in town. Maybe I’ll choose you again--or maybe this time it will be your best friend.
You get the story, the fantasy, the thrill.
And I get a night of not having to be alone.
Thank you for that,
The Exotic Temptress
[Complete List of Letters.]
