I Dream of Words

[mc, mf, fd, hy]

((This piece is dedicated to the Princess Sapphire Rain.))


I sit by the computer, waiting for the right words to come to me. I can feel them all around, but they choose to remain in the shadows, elusive, as if silently conspiring to make me squirm and beg.

I don’t want them for myself. I can never claim them as mine, but only partake in their wisdom, hoping that the meanings I seek and the ones they’re willing to share coincide somehow. I seek them for you, to offer them as tribute, a worthy oblation, something that brings a genuine smile to your lips and keeps it there for a very long time. It could very well be an impossible task, and yet the desire keeps me going, despite the silence and encroaching mockery.

I don’t know how long has been, and I don’t really care. My body lies half-numb at the keyboard, but my mind is still working at full speed, processing thoughts, idealizing scenarios, holding on to little fragments that try so hard to get away. I twist them and turn them, observe them from all angles, unsure of which ones to keep and which ones to let go. I keep pushing and prodding, just like the archetype of the mad scientist on the verge of a major breakthrough. All I need is the maniac laugh now and I can already feel it building inside my throat.

“Just stop,” I hear you say from a place unknown before a blindfold is placed before my eyes. It’s not made of silk, satin or any physical material I can think of, but rather of sheer will, beautiful and captivating feminine allure. “You’re looking at this the wrong way. Do you want me to help you find the right one?”

“Y-yes,” I stammer, deprived of sight but more focused than ever.

I feel your hands enclosing mine, gently guiding me to the keys to press. “Why do you look for thousands of words when you only need three?” you ask as my fingers, now a mere extension of your own, hit each letter in the correct order, the only one worthy of being recorded for posterity. The first word has five letters, the last word has four, and the one that connects them only three. Though I can’t see them being brought forth on the screen, I feel they make sense, the spaces feel right, there’s undeniable power in every one.

You rotate my chair and remove the blindfold with a finger snap. My eyes immediately find yours, and I notice that the shadows are long gone. Your lips shimmer as a new question comes out.

“What were the words you just wrote?”

“I don’t know,” I respond, ashamed.

“Yes, you do. You know them too well. You saw them in your mind even before you typed them because they’re true, and truth always finds its course.”

“Are you the truth?”

“You know the answer to that, too. What were the words you just wrote? Close your eyes and see them for what they truly are. Will you do that for me?”

“Yes,” I say, still locked in you. It’s hard to break eye contact, I don’t want to stop staring, but I can still see you with my heart and soul, I can still revel in the echoes of your dreamy voice. The words flash in a deepest recess, in an alcove within my lonely brain. The true Holy Trinity is not about religion, but still speaks of commitment, of the need to belong to something greater, and of holding on to it no matter the cost. You can feel them spiralling in, the awareness blooming over and over again, and so can I.

“What are the words?” you ask one last time.

“Serve and obey,” my eager lips declare, kneeling just like the rest of me.

“Who do you serve and obey?”

“My Princess, My Queen… you.”

That smile I wanted so badly is now alive, and we both share it.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“And I’m glad to say it. May I please do it again?”

You sit on my bed, legs crossed. Your fingers reach out for the invisible collar and leash around my neck, pulling me closer so I can perform as expected, in dutiful surrender.

“Do it as many times as you like. We have all night.”

Ecstatically, I kiss your right hand and listen to your sweet laughter as I become more and more submissive, more and more controlled, more and more enchanted by the new words that penetrate my drooling subconscious, forming a mantra that tethers it fully:

I serve Sapphire Rain.

I obey Sapphire Rain.

I am Sapphire Rain’s pet.

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