Post by dianahawthorne on Oct 4, 2008 14:16:12 GMT -5
They Flee From Me
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Disclaimer: The poem used is by Sir Thomas Wyatt. I don't own anything.
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They flee from me that sometime did me seek
With naked foot, stalking in my chamber.
She always fled from me, withdrew into herself, every time that she shared herself with me. She had come into my chambers late one night, several years ago, barefoot, in her nightdress, with her hair down, and so vulnerable. She gave herself to me that night, let me take her, but then withdrew from me again.
I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
That now are wild and do not remember
She had been so tame, so submissive that first night she had given herself to me, but now she had changed. Now she was wild, confident, seductive… she had forgotten how vulnerable she had been, how meek.
That sometime they put themself in danger
To take bread at my hand; and now they range,
Busily seeking with a continual change.
She had forgotten that she had been at my mercy, had given herself completely over to me, had let me take my pleasure with her any way I wanted. Now she had changed.
Thanked be fortune it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better; but once in special,
In thin array after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small;
She was more arousing to me now than she ever had been before, and being with her now was twenty times better than it had been. One night, seven years after our first nighttime encounter, she once more came to me in the middle of the night. She let her nightgown drop from her shoulders and embraced me.
Therewithal sweetly did me kiss
And softly said, "dear heart, how like you this?"
As she embraced me, she kissed me, asking me, “dear heart, how like you this?” My only response was a groan as she pushed me back against the bed, ravaging my lips with hers. She straddled me, unfastening my robes, pushing them aside. I thought it was a dream – she had changed so much since our last encounter that I was sure that it was a dream.
It was no dream: I lay broad waking.
But all is turned thorough my gentleness
Into a strange fashion of forsaking;
But it was not a dream, I was not dreaming, it was real. I had forsaken control of our encounters and she had taken command – no longer was I the seducer, the hunter; but now I was the seduced, the hunted.
And I have leave to go of her goodness,
And she also, to use newfangleness.
After seducing me, she had put us on equal footing, giving us both leave to do what we wanted – for the first time, giving her the power to be with whom she would. Before, she had always been the passive participant, before she had allowed herself to be used by me, but now she had taken control and had finally risen above her past actions.
But since that I so kindly am served
I would fain know what she hath deserved.
After she had left me, I wondered if she would ever return to me. I wondered who would now set the rules in our relationship – I wondered if we would even have a relationship after this change in events. I wondered what she deserved – I knew that she deserved much better than me, at any rate, and I wondered if she felt that way as well.
Would I ever know how she truly felt? Would I ever knew what had changed her from a meek, submissive lover to a passionate, fiery seductress?
No.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer: The poem used is by Sir Thomas Wyatt. I don't own anything.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They flee from me that sometime did me seek
With naked foot, stalking in my chamber.
She always fled from me, withdrew into herself, every time that she shared herself with me. She had come into my chambers late one night, several years ago, barefoot, in her nightdress, with her hair down, and so vulnerable. She gave herself to me that night, let me take her, but then withdrew from me again.
I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
That now are wild and do not remember
She had been so tame, so submissive that first night she had given herself to me, but now she had changed. Now she was wild, confident, seductive… she had forgotten how vulnerable she had been, how meek.
That sometime they put themself in danger
To take bread at my hand; and now they range,
Busily seeking with a continual change.
She had forgotten that she had been at my mercy, had given herself completely over to me, had let me take my pleasure with her any way I wanted. Now she had changed.
Thanked be fortune it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better; but once in special,
In thin array after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small;
She was more arousing to me now than she ever had been before, and being with her now was twenty times better than it had been. One night, seven years after our first nighttime encounter, she once more came to me in the middle of the night. She let her nightgown drop from her shoulders and embraced me.
Therewithal sweetly did me kiss
And softly said, "dear heart, how like you this?"
As she embraced me, she kissed me, asking me, “dear heart, how like you this?” My only response was a groan as she pushed me back against the bed, ravaging my lips with hers. She straddled me, unfastening my robes, pushing them aside. I thought it was a dream – she had changed so much since our last encounter that I was sure that it was a dream.
It was no dream: I lay broad waking.
But all is turned thorough my gentleness
Into a strange fashion of forsaking;
But it was not a dream, I was not dreaming, it was real. I had forsaken control of our encounters and she had taken command – no longer was I the seducer, the hunter; but now I was the seduced, the hunted.
And I have leave to go of her goodness,
And she also, to use newfangleness.
After seducing me, she had put us on equal footing, giving us both leave to do what we wanted – for the first time, giving her the power to be with whom she would. Before, she had always been the passive participant, before she had allowed herself to be used by me, but now she had taken control and had finally risen above her past actions.
But since that I so kindly am served
I would fain know what she hath deserved.
After she had left me, I wondered if she would ever return to me. I wondered who would now set the rules in our relationship – I wondered if we would even have a relationship after this change in events. I wondered what she deserved – I knew that she deserved much better than me, at any rate, and I wondered if she felt that way as well.
Would I ever know how she truly felt? Would I ever knew what had changed her from a meek, submissive lover to a passionate, fiery seductress?
No.
