- FIND SOMETHING TO DO BABY ARE YOU DOWN DOWN DOWN SKIN
- FIND SOMETHING TO DO BABY ARE YOU DOWN DOWN DOWN CRACK
Were you looking at me? Were you looking at my bare bottom planning how you would stripe it and change it from white to red. I could hear you behind me, still sitting there on the couch.
FIND SOMETHING TO DO BABY ARE YOU DOWN DOWN DOWN CRACK
I noticed the very fine hairline crack in the paint over the drywall tape. ‘Neat!’ I thought, as I noticed the tiny cobwebs that bridged the shallow antiqued ridges and fissures. I let my eyes examine the rough coat plaster, and then the crackle finish on the picture frame. It raised goose flesh, and made me shiver. The air conditioner cycled on, and I felt the cool swirl of air wash past my bare bottom. Surely I’d know what it was if I did it deliberately? I was miserable, and confused. What ever it was I didn’t do it on purpose. The ice and resolve in your voice made me shiver.Īgain I searched my mind. “You stand there, and you think about it. “Please? What did I do?” I said through my tears. Tears escaped my eyes, and I began to hiccup with them. My cotton briefs came part way down with them. I managed the zipper, and pushed them down off my hips. My hands trembled, my fingers almost useless with pins and needles of fear pulsing and buzzing through them. “Pull down your pants,” you told me, your voice icy with command. I wrung my fingers in an effort to control the unpleasant tingling.
FIND SOMETHING TO DO BABY ARE YOU DOWN DOWN DOWN SKIN
“Just do it,” the tone of your voice was filled with power, and again my skin came alive with the surging electrical pulses of fear. “In the corner,” you pointed to the corner where I saw for the first time that you’d also moved the curio table. “Honey? What did I do?” I asked you again, when I came back to you after finishing up in the kitchen. My fingers buzzed with the unpleasant excess energy of fear. I felt my legs quiver, and my stomach churned with the familiar flash of fear that electrified my skin. Your voice was as firm as your expression. “Put those away and come on out here,” you repeat. I tried again, speaking to you over the counter between the family room and the kitchen, as I rinsed the celery and lettuce for the crisper. My hands trembled as I put away the few cans and fresh vegetables I’d just picked up.
There was nothing in your voice for me to read either, only stern command and authority. “Just put those away and come back in here,” was all you said. “What?! What did I do?” my question was half question and half plea. Your face was set in a stern glowering frown. I looked into your eyes, and couldn’t read anything there. I knew your intent, but I didn’t know why. There were two pillows at your feet, and the long strap rested across your thighs. The coffee table moved to the side of the room in front of the fireplace. I came home to find you sitting on the couch. You put me here only minutes after I came home from running errands. I am wishing that a protective wall would come up behind me and box me into this corner. You won’t tell me what I’ve done, and I’m afraid to go to you. The way you say it sends chills through me. “Come here to me!” the command is clear enough.
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