poeticdesires

Category: Clover

  • Flying

    I was nervous to ask the question, but, like many things in my life, I did it anyway.

    “Hey, you still need a bottom for your afternoon classes?”

    The first class we attended was Newaza to Fly.

    It was a large class. The instructors, the DV8 crew, encouraged people to double up on frames. What they were teaching wouldn’t be dynamic. We could get close.

    And we did. We found a spot on the large wooden square frame, one of many pairs who chose the rig.

    We laid out a sheet. I put my things aside. By the wall. Took off my shoes and jacket. Stretched. Dragon prepped his ropes.

    The concept behind the class was simple: start from the floor and gradually ease your bottom into the air. Less risk. More control of tension. And less stress on the bottom (in case of nervousness).

    Dragon threw a TK on my frame. As he wrapped his ropes around my torso, my nerves both remained and softened. I didn’t know how my body would react to being suspended. I hadn’t flown in quite some time. But the last person to lift me into the air was Dragon. I trusted him.

    Yet, I didn’t completely trust my body. Didn’t trust the strength I had shown before. Didn’t trust that I would be able to live in rope again.

    But as each moment passed by, jute tight against my skin, and more applied still, my body remembered how much I loved rope. Remembered the feel, the comfort. Remembered how soaring made me calm. Centered me. Engulfed me in a love of myself, pulsing in waves out to the world.

    As he weaved his TK, I closed my eyes. As the instructor talked, I got lost in rope. I leaned against the floor. Dragon tied my left leg. Then my right, and my hips. He secured his lines. And, applying the central idea behind the class, he slowly lifted me. One section at a time. Checking tension on his lines. Raising me just inches off the ground.

    Yet it felt like I soared.

    I drifted in a bliss of comforting rope. My eyes closed. My being in my body. Floating high above the world.

    When he lowered me, I laid on our sheet. Body pressed against the floor. No longer floating above it all. Still full of joy, and happiness. And I remembered why I loved to fly.

    After Newaza to Fly, Dragon and I attended Thinking Rope. Wykd_Dave and Clover taught a class about breaking down your ties, finding the little habits we all have, and improving them to improve your technique and skill.

    Dragon, for his tie, chose to put me in a TK, again. Over and over, he untied and tied a TK on my chest. I felt the ropes go on and the ropes come off from half a dozen to a dozen times.

    As he worked, it felt like I worked to. I stretched in between ties. I relaxed my shoulders. Felt my hands and wrists. Felt in my body.

    By the end of our two classes together, I had regained my courage. My conviction in the strength of my body. I felt like a badass rope bottom again, flying high.

  • A Good Friend

    Connection. Appreciation. Care. Love.

    Watching WykD_Dave & Clover play Sunday night in a small side room of the dungeon was so powerful, so moving, I started crying. Seeing what they had. Remembering what I didn’t.

    Quickly and quietly, I slipped out of the space, grabbed a tissue from the rest room, and re-entered, taking my seat again. I wiped away my tears. I brought myself back.

    NHF had not seen me when he first entered the room. Didn’t see me as he surveyed the space. He chose a seat across the doorway from me, close to the opposite corner, and watched the rope scene as well.

    I remained as I was, a quiet little church mouse taking in the play.

    But when I returned and sat again, I suspected he saw me. It wasn’t until I looked up and over at him that our eyes met. I gave him a smile.

    He, in turn, pointed at me and with his index finger beckoned me over. I got up from my seat and quietly scurried towards him. His finger now pointing down towards the ground, I knew my spot.

    My head was soon on his knee.

    I didn’t know if he saw me cry, didn’t know if he gave the silent command because of my strong reaction or just because he knew I’d want it. But I do know being at his knee made me feel better.

    He is not my Sir, nor is he my Daddy, but in that moment NHF was a good friend.

  • Touched

    There were two moments that struck me during Graydancer’s Cabaret. And they just happened to be during back-to-back performances.

    As DoNotGoGently slowly walked towards the stage, I at first admired the rope work on her body. With lines hanging off her shoulders, as well as by her hips, the intricacy of the rope-as-clothing was beautiful.

    So too was her dancing. DNGG performed a modern dance style piece, a chair at center stage her focus. It represented a past, I suppose. At least, it felt like it did to me.

    As she danced to a song whose lyrics I barely remember, I do recall one part. It spoke about being tied to someone. I think it was Sarah McLaughlin singing, or that could’ve been someone else’s piece.

    What I remember most vividly, though, was how I felt as she danced. My eyes welled up. My heart filled. My sight did not leave her body, even as the tears rolled down my face.

    There was hurt, but there was hope. There was sorrow, yet serenity. It was as if she said, “I hurt now, but I will not hurt forever.”

    As she finished, I used a pair of red underwear, which I’d thrown at Big Bro after his song that opened the Cabaret, to wipe away my tears. I bent my head down and took a moment.

    As the show neared its end, many people snuck up the aisles to get a better view of the front. Only one act remained: WykD_Dave and Clover.

    I had heard wonderful things about their rope work. And, with so many people eager to be at the front to watch, it seemed like expectations were high. The fluid pair more than delivered.

    It’s easy to say their performance was stunning. Clover is an amazing bottom and WykD_Dave an amazing rigger. And though I was in awe of their Futomomo suspension, which then transitioned into an ankle suspension, that is not what touched me.

    In fact it was touch, the touch of WykD_Dave’s hand on Clover’s shoulder to begin, and then his arms around her to end their performance that really struck me. It was their intimacy, their vulnerability, their connection.

    Later in the weekend, towards the end of my Shibaricon, I had the pleasure of seeing WykD_Dave and Clover play. They were in a side room away from the main dungeon. They chose a rig at the far end. They played, not saying a word that I could hear.

    When they finished, there was again a moment where WykD_Dave simply stood behind Clover and held her. Her arms too held him tight. Once again I saw their connection.

    That night, Sunday night, and that moment was too much for me. Seeing what they had, what I longed to have. Again tears graced my cheeks.

    To be so blessed, to be so loved. I can only dream.