Consentual Nonconsentuality

I feel like I just gained some insight into something that my boi has been trying to express to me. And something I said this morning too.

I said, “I wonder how I do it.” Which was met with a blank stare by the poor creature.

I don’t know how I do what I do. I never have a plan and I never know what’s coming next. I don’t know what will occur in 10 minutes, or five minutes, or three minutes. I don’t know anymore than the focus of my attention does.

I’ve tried planning scenes. I know some people do it. This, then this, then this. Nope. Some people have a routine for how they warm people up or play with them. This, then this, then this. Nope. Some people have specific things that make them hot. This, this, this…. Nope. I’m a shitty negotiator precisely because “This, then this, then this” makes me feel like I’m… well they don’t make me *feel*.

My *thing* is the individual song. I want to figure out how to play this particular instrument that is under my hands. I get off on the moment/s. I want the look, the sound, and the movement that conveys through prose its own unique kind of poetry.