I shut my eyes when I heard him enter the room. He didn’t ask me to, but I liked it. I liked the mystery of his movements blending into air against my skin. He said hello to me, I smiled back leaning my head down in obeisance. I didn’t have to, there were no rules for this, no protocols for the night, but I knew what stirred him. I
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The piece starts out with the girl doing as she thinks the man wants because she "knows what stirs him". A mask if ever we've seen one. She's being what he wants.
But then a little further down we have this line I became something else, someone else, the person I felt was true to myself.
That seems a little counterintuitive, but still we have--
His words made my heart flutter. It chipped away at that someone else that was still here, still pretending to be the model citizen. I didn’t want to be her.
His words were, if I'm remembering correctly, "Good girl." He's praising her for being what she is which is something that his words make her heart flutter.
Still pretending but doesn't want to be her. But why does she have to be anything really? In the next few lines she talks about being broken down to her primitive self. It's like THAT'S her compulsion. That's her DESIRE. But she doesn't share it with him ( ... )
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First off, I just wanted to say that I hope I didn't make you feel like you had to be defensive about this piece. Truthfully, your post made me think and every question I left above was just my way of showing interest. I really hope that came through.
I see what you're saying here and it definitely sounds like a very intricate, very complicated matter.
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