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The first night (rewritten)

Author: Aaron of Ithaca TW: implied s.a, manipulation, ptsd, coercion and power imbalance

I Chant: Last night (Part 1) Part 2 -> What the olive tree saw

On the first night in her cave . With the warmest of voices and the sweetest of tones she said: “Let me love be your soul, let my voice be your voice, let us be together in bliss”.

When I tried to punch, to escape… She took my fist and twirled below it. I saw her eyes ignited, her face became a flame, and before knowing vines, warm and soft vines blossomed around me. I tried to fight but with a wrist movement my legs… they became limp. I fell on the warm scented bed while she, as the gracious nymph that she was, twirled her warm fingers to my chin as she kissed my head. In a moment my moist eyes were dried, my hands embracing her, and my lisps prepared, while I was drowning away in my own tears again. “Let your tears be swept away by my embrace, let your cries become laughs and strength, let your shouts become a kiss and kisses, hugs. Let me be your home my dear and no one separates us no more” she said with glee while I screamed for help.

My hands then encircled her skin, we got as close as possible, how I couldn't move. Then her dewy warm embrace, her blazing embrace while I was drowning away in a prison of ice and rain. I was terrified but then a voice that wasn't mine, not from the heart but the throat, came: “I love you, love”, said him And then blackness rose and for 7 years the norm became. But last night, HORRIBLE NIGHT, I dreaded it, I dreaded our bed, our olive bed, our place! Before reaching it, it came to my mind. “I despise you stars! I despise you moon as the flowers that enveloped me before, cowards!”. I gazed out the window and saw them, the witnesses of my pain. “Your dim light forgets, my cries and hopes for the rosy dawn again, why do you want me to stay in hell?”. I thought while walking towards the bed.

But something was odd, the cold, the breeze among the olive twigs, the scent of rain…, the coarse linen, the translucent veil…I felt secure…but SHE, was there.

I only saw her face in you my Joy and froze as you became her; I wanted to leave as snow melts in the sun.

As you tended me on our bed, your rosy fingers in my chest, the chest….

I felt the same as those years away, while my eyes became pools of tears and pain.

How you stroke my skin in that way, how you played with my hair…and then, you sang as a swallow in spring

“My love” she said

My body became still, my gaze disturbed, the room, the twigs, it was again stone, the warmth, the flush, the vines… Her face… I saw her smile again. ”You´re with me dear, there´s nothing to fear”, Calypso said as a warm dawn, a false dawn. The kiss, the strokes, the talk that wasn't my own, it was all again, the same play. I awaited the dark as normal… But no. I felt water on my eyes, my beard became moist, my mouth didn´t form a smile, NO. Iit was a cry of help and from deep inside it rose: “BUT GODDESS PLEASE, OH GRACIOUS NYMPH, PLEASE NO MORE,!” Then as my heart was being torn apart by her eyes ”PENELOPE MY JOY, I CAN'T I JUST CAN'T!!!!!” “FORGIVE ME DEAR, FORGIVE MY JOY!!!!!!”, I said as I was choking in my tears, in my mind, with my voice.

Then I tasted it, salt, sweet salt again! I felt how the fire extinguished, how a drop of dew hit the lip and everything changed again, I was afraid to see her again, but looking towards her, only a figure in distress was who I met. It was YOU! It was you, my Joy! my Queen, my Penelope.! I saw how you fused with the shadows, how your cloth hung in the cold morning wind. I saw how you ran towards the candle.

The first night (rewritten)

Author: Aaron of Ithaca TW: implied s.a, manipulation, ptsd, coercion and power imbalance

I Chant: Last night (Part 2) <- Part 1 II Chant-> What the olive tree saw

While you were away I saw no stone, only flowers and twigs not vines; it was our bed. As you came I didn't see joy nor lust, I saw FEAR, I saw PAIN, I saw a Flame. Not the moon, not the vines, not the stone in her lair, no, it was cold again unlike there. I only thought about how you rushed towards me, crying, cold, coarse. Then notice how your skin wasn't plump, how your voice broke, how your eyes were filled with tears, how you let them free. “Odysseus, please I'm here, you can count on me!”, you shouted as a ravaging ravine.

And there I was, with you. I saw my hands, my arms, my legs. My voice. But it was me, not him. "In the night? A confused cry rose. "My will is only for the day!" I shouted It perplexed me. "How… Can I speak?" My body was still, unmoving as stone, but not the mouth. "What is this new spell you've placed on me? Why are you tormenting me again? Isn't this what you wanted!" I roared, agonized, terrorized as daggers formed in my eyes. "Don't… don't torture me. Enough with home. . Please; I gasped out wetly. "Let the darkness embrace my broken bones! Let the warmth overtake me!"

I was unable to move but my eyes were fixed in the vine, in the twig, in the olive above me.

Then I felt your pain. It was real, not a ruse.

From the enveloping dark in the corners of my eyes I rose from the dead. I rushed towards you joy, I rushed as the morning rays of Eos.

Then I finally saw you, you were AFRAID not of me but of him, the husk of the man I became there.

I felt how your gentle hands touched my cheeks and cleaned my tears.

And face to face I saw, for the first time: your cries.

I felt how your dim warmth gave way to tears, clouding your pearly lights.

I saw how you didn´t close your eyes as I faced away, guilty of making you suffer.

Realized how I was home. Home

I was home with my streets, my ports, my palace ,