repeat offender

She hurls at me the word recapitulation
Heavy in thought as I absorb this word, I realize my truth in that moment
The perverse legacy is when i re-inscribe past dynamics in the present
Lessons learned long ago as a child, not yet fully aware, but the arduous task is to remember once i'm cognizant of the process

repress, suppress, deny creates nice little pre-packaged stories... fantasies that bide me time
fiction, bidding me time for the sake of prodigious love

what am i willing to do, just to feel the beauty of love?
Fillet myself open for that magnificent high?
reticent i am, but here it has found me again, so i find myself compelled....enticed by its magik

Recapitulation can become very personal because it defines a relationship between two people
Is it inevitable that I sacrifice myself like frida for a man?
What did she get out of her relationship with diego?
I want to know!
Were they intellectual equals, seeking solace in each others words?
Was it sex that bound them, seeking each other’s bodies again and again?
Was it friendship filled with tenderness?
Was it comfortable?

Perhaps, by default, it’s the layers of socialization that finds its way into relationships between men and women that sculpted their union…
the power structure, the hierarchy that establishes patterns of symbiotic interactions.

Did he need to be nurtured by a mother’s love, did she need a father?

On some level we participate in these complimentary roles, dis-ease created by this patriarchal system, which deems one/male as superior and the other/female as inferior. Because of false consciousness, we collude with this system because we don’t even know it’s been created.
Women have their roles, men have theirs, and we mitigate relationships based on such, oblivious of the dynamics at work…...generations of worker bees that perpetuates the insidious lies and secrets

We fight the external locus of pressures, but these well defined roles mutate in order to keep themselves alive

They have the strength of the ocean’s tide that pulls us into her womb
We are blinded because we think it will always be different for us, but the sleeper wave lurches silently, waiting to take us when we are most vulnerable
yes, perhaps there is some projection happening here, but the questioning is real
frida and diego at the very least were each other's teachers---life's pains, indulgences, and beauties. But, is a muse only good for as long as creativity flows?
When it has evaporated, do the particles still exist?
Have they changed form or are they forever gone?