This piece reflects my initial reaction to Jack Gilbert’s poem “The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart,” in which he writes: “my love is a hundred pitchers of honey.”
I spent months actively considering this notion of all that subjective love, all that honey. A suffocating Madonna vs Whore bondage scene often played out in my mind along with an eerie children’s chorus rendition of “Tonight You Belong to Me.”
My friend and filmmaker, Aubrey Bramble helped me actualize the vision. Performing this work aided in unraveling the many contractions I experienced in my body while playing the roles I take on in courtship(s).
How does the tyranny of monogamy vivisect a polyamorous woman?
People do not like change…So, how could I truly be my ever evolving self with another person ALWAYS around, expecting me to stay and stay the same?
Is it possible to know one another in a still, core way, and not be static?
Will the love of kitchenware be my beddeath?
I’ve been living into these questions for some time now. There is no clean answer. I do know that only now that I am the most committed (to living) am I free of that creeping fear of my identity’s death.