Trustplaces: (Erotic Art, Vignettes & Verse for Women Who Love Women) by Baeli Kelli Jae

Author:Baeli, Kelli Jae [Baeli, Kelli Jae]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lesbian Literati Press
Published: 2014-08-12T22:00:00+00:00

Freedom

Running from chaos of clinking

Glasses, and the friendly hands

Of drunkards,

Fleeing the pulsing light

reverb pounding

leaving my brain raw

with its incandescent scream.

To the safety of you.

Under blankets, warm

Then hot

Stripping away confining fabrics

Drinking your eyes

Dancing with your heart

Merging with your fire.

Sweat beads

straining out of pores

teardrops

ballooning out of corners

soaking the pillow

with Freedom.

The Third Fold

They all went to Henri’s for a drink after the gig and she was rapt by Layna’s stories of the road. She wouldn’t say she hung on her every word, but she shamelessly dangled from a few. When Layna confessed that her body was feeling the effects of all those years in buses and on bad hotel beds, Scarlet suggested she come see Micah for a massage, but her schedule kept her from it, and she promised to come in next time around.

Now, finished with the back of her legs, she lifted the edge of the sheet up high, respectfully blocking her own view, instructing Layna to turn over to her back. She spent extra time on the front of the thighs, as this was usually where the strain was most severe for musicians who perform with a guitar, standing up. Especially if they dance around a lot.

“Oh, that’s really sore,” she breathed.

“This is the muscle that helps you to do all that standing and dancing around. It’s called the Rectus Femoris.”

Layna giggled.

She grinned. “Everyone laughs when I say that.”

“Sorry. It’s just that next time I’m dancing around, all I’ll be able to think about is my Rectus Femoris…”

Micah chuckled. “There are worse things to think about, I suppose.”

“And better things…” Layna said cryptically.

When she’d finished her legs, she covered her again and moved back to her head, began working at the neck, loosening the tension that usually settled there when musicians strap a guitar to themselves for hours at a time, pressing the pressure points at the base of her skull.

“You could have made lots of money touring with bands.”

“Ya think?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Well maybe if it was Heart, I would have.”

“Love them.”

“Yeah,” she confessed lightly. “I’ve always had a crush on Ann Wilson.”

“Me too.”

Me too? A crush? “Do straight women really get crushes on other women?” Oh that was brave. Or crazy. Maybe brave and crazy. Melissa Etheridge would be so proud.

“Who said I was straight?”

Without her consent, Micah’s hands stopped. She was cradling the sides of Layna’s face. She got them moving again, working the deltoids of her shoulders, a bit of pectorals, but careful not to wander into breast tissue, which was considered invasive. “I’m sorry. That was really inappropriate for me to say—”

“Well why?” she asked sleepily. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“I suppose so…but we don’t know each other that well…” She began to work on her hands. The hands that brought so much beauty out of 6 bronze-and nickel-wound strings…

“So let’s get to know each other well.”

She only stopped for a nanosecond that time, probably imperceptibly. Layna didn’t notice at all, most likely. “Sure.”

The remainder of the massage took place in silence. When she was finished, she instructed

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