lessons; on plato
Title: On Plato
Rating: R
Pairing: Any
On the bed, in the dark, the only light source from his kid’s nightlight somewhere behind us. On my hands, on my knees, cannot move until he moves, can only see what he sees. The shadows we cast on the wall dance to our rhythm, dance to us, my groans, his grunts.
I move. I see.
And do you see, I said, what appears over the wall? They are talking, they are silent.
You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange prisoners.
He thrusts.
Like ourselves, I replied; and we see only our own shadows, or the shadows of one another.
True, he said; how could we see anything but the shadows?
To us, the truth is literally nothing but the shadows of images.
That is certain.
And now look again.
We are released, liberated, and compelled to turn; look into his eyes, he is looking back, and he suffers sharp pains; the glare distresses him and he is unable to see the realities-the shadows, what he saw before was an illusion.
Kiss him hard, pushing back, moving slow; we face the wall again. I fancy that the shadows are truer than the light now shown to us, I said.
That, he said, is a very just distinction.
Rating: R
Pairing: Any
On the bed, in the dark, the only light source from his kid’s nightlight somewhere behind us. On my hands, on my knees, cannot move until he moves, can only see what he sees. The shadows we cast on the wall dance to our rhythm, dance to us, my groans, his grunts.
I move. I see.
And do you see, I said, what appears over the wall? They are talking, they are silent.
You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange prisoners.
He thrusts.
Like ourselves, I replied; and we see only our own shadows, or the shadows of one another.
True, he said; how could we see anything but the shadows?
To us, the truth is literally nothing but the shadows of images.
That is certain.
And now look again.
We are released, liberated, and compelled to turn; look into his eyes, he is looking back, and he suffers sharp pains; the glare distresses him and he is unable to see the realities-the shadows, what he saw before was an illusion.
Kiss him hard, pushing back, moving slow; we face the wall again. I fancy that the shadows are truer than the light now shown to us, I said.
That, he said, is a very just distinction.