A Fetlifer issued a challenge this week based on a quote by Ernest Hemingway to write “Hard and clear about what hurts.” This was my response:
I’d written a haiku in answer to this challenge:
Just the tiny prick
of the needle as it squirts
numbing Novocaine
But the challenge is to write hard and clear, and that haiku is neither hard nor clear.
I think about the answer to the question “What hurts?” and right now, nothingdoes.
Nothing hurts.
There’s nobody holding court in my heart, but it doesn’t feel empty. There’s no dull, hollow ache – the one that had taken residence for so long I’d started to believe I welcomed it.
The only pain I receive now is the pain I seek. The slaps, the bites, the scratching as rope is pulled taut across my skin. The kind of hurt that results in the indulgent satisfaction of surrender.
What hurts, you ask?
Not nearly enough.
polyammering 
How then is the sting of not feeling the rope’s bite when you want to?
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A valid point. And seeing as I’m 3 weeks from my last tie, a sting I know well.
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Then, with as much precision as I can possibly muster, you’re welcome. Glad I could help you remember that.
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And just in time. I’ve just set up some rope time for Thursday 🙂
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You only have two more days to think about it, dream about it, anticipate it like a kid in a candy shop with no money… hmmmm I like that.
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Just a few hours left now!
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