About

The Battousai is a blog about art, culture, fashion, sex and anything else that randomly crosses The Battousai’s mind…

4 Responses to “About”

  1. Ambrose February 24, 2012 at 4:20 pm #

    Great teachings. Ladies should improve their product and stop blaming the customers for poor taste.

  2. cc May 4, 2012 at 11:09 am #

    Do you consider love a random thought?!

    I know who you are…

    I see you every morning when I spray my braids with sheen. When your razor glides down your chin, it is from my mouth that a cursing hiss comes when you clip a bit of skin. When I walk into the spray of warm water in the shower, it is your back that feels its cleaning caress…and when you put on your shirt, it is my fingers that interlace the buttons in their holes.

    Remember that smile you practice in the mirror? That smile that says the world doesn’t faze you? Don’t you remember…just before I turned out the light…don’t you remember its familiar curve in my mirror?

    I know who you are…

    When I sit quietly eating and pause, it is your teeth that grind into the food. When the boss barks an order, it is your eyes that immediately spark, not mine. I know the sound of hollow laughter. I heard it in your voice, just now, when I laughed at something not too funny.

    I know the walls you have built around your heart…my tears form the intricacies of the brick and mortar that constructed them. I know your fear, my love. That is one scent that I wear with flair. I know that you surround yourself with many a man…but feel affection for close to none…

    I know that I want you… and nothing else.

    I know that you want me too. To what degree, I cannot confess to understand. I heard it in the tremor of your voice when you thought I was hurt. I felt it in your silence when we did not speak. I saw it when you fought me for a reason neither of us understood. When my pulse raced and my chest constricted when you let me go. I know exactly why it is better to let me go than to risk submerging in the bitter-sweet possibility of my embrace. Better to let me go so you can fix your broken heart…better to let me be so that you will not corrode my already sore heart.

    But you already corrode me, my love.

    I hear it in my hesitation before I speak your name aloud. I felt it when you touched me that night while birds slept and my palms were slick with desire. I felt it as your hand grazed my back and a thousand volts of electricity stung my skin…I felt it when you hugged me before you left me conflicted. I felt it when you took my power down that road with you… I feel it when you reject me, my love…when I am consumed by drunken need. I feel it when my distance from you doesn’t hurt you nearly as much as it hurts me… When the attentions of another distract me, but not you…

    But you already corrode me, my love.

    I realize it when something great happens to me and it is you I think of, not the other. I realize it when I wake up drenched from a passionate dream and it is your name that drifts with me to consciousness. I realize it when I ache for a hug and I can smell the scent you ensnared me with. I realize it when my phone rings and I wonder why it is not you….

    But you already corrode me, my love. ..

    Why else do I stutter when my heart flutters as we dally in banter? Why else does your teasing torment me thus? Why else does jealousy jade me when I imagine that you do belong to someone else…someone fitting…someone worthy…someone NOT me? Why else is the action of writing this down more a punishment than a release?

    I know who you are, my love…

    Just now, I touched your heart. Just now, I swallowed your hurt, Just now, I wore your hat….

    You already corrode me, my love…

    You already do.

  3. cc May 7, 2012 at 8:20 am #

    Sorry No, it will cost you a leg and an arm………And you look dashing with both.

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