“velvet trap” could refer to a situation that appears to be good, soft, or luxurious (like velvet), but is actually a trap or has some hidden difficulties.
Dashikis and clocks with us are a dangerous combination. Soaked in sweat and drenched in hurt, I cannot bear to stare at it. Every time, I buy a new one, we find our ways of leaving our filth on it. Me and you, we leave a stench Ola. We do not learn to hang our dashiki’s and never close the door to the room. Rather, we do this every time and hope the sun never snitches on us.
With Ola, it is familiar. I know how it works so I do the bare minimum. You say put off the light, you drag me and bend me, I form an arch but for you Ola, I will break my back. Ola, we breathe heavily, overcompensate and even five years later, I know my place around and along you. I print an image of everything your trouser hides off my mind. I know every movement you hand makes on me once we shut the door. However, when we are done and draw the blinds, we smell the stench. We look around and realize, this is our filth.
Ola, it is something about having to deal with you. I over impress then I overcompensate. I hurt, I heal, then I hurt some more. It could be greed, it could be selfishness, maybe lack of self-control? But it most certainly is familiar. I tug at your collar, bend in front of you, get the right angles, Fucks! I jump higher than everyone, maybe then you will see me. Maybe you will realize that even though I do not want you, I want to know I am relevant to you even with the lights on and the sun biting down.
Familiar love. Except with Ola, there was never love. We are two idiots who never got around to making love but always fuck. The episodes replay in my head reminding me that the last place I need to be is here. You can be silent forever; Not like it is something new. Ola, we swerve around, and we move in the next direction only to end up intertwined. This path never needs to meet again. I see your judgement. It is subtle but as clear as ever. Five years is a long ass time to be tied and you quietly shout ‘stupid’ to my face.
The apologies are overbearing, long awaited and in the end, I am who I have always been to you. A tool for pleasure. I do not mind it; in fact, I want it. However, I have switched your pleasure for my sanity for too long. Ola, I dive into unfamiliar places, and I switch off our clock. When we intertwine parts again, we forget time. Bask in our insanity then finally, end up where we once were. Now, we check the clock and realize how much time we have spent basking in this familiarity that leaves a stench. Time is up, my breath is out from jumping for so long and really, I am loved at home. Where did you place me? The catalogs? A lot has happened, and a lot needs to stop happening.
Ola, this is the part of the movie where I gain freedom. I push the sheets, switch on the light and let the sun be a witness to me leaving. With the lights off, there is always a chance we will go under the covers and forget where we stand. It is crazy that I do not even want more than you offered because I am incapable of love. We wanted similar things, but I still treat you with dignity. I am not the bitch that waits till she hears the locks turns and you walk in.
I have dashikis to hang and a lot more to buy. Freedom from repeating cycles. Freedom from our familiar. It is just, we are unfamiliarly familiar. I know you but I really don’t. I am excited at the thought of you. The smartness, the play, the demeanor that I reduce my light around you. I stare puppy eyed, in awe of you. When really, I should have looked at myself longer. I am like you, just in different places. My dashikis will remain clean this time and I see the sun smiling. We move, we must learn to move. My unfamiliar Ola. My velvet Trap.
“Celebrate endings, for they precede new beginnings.” — Jonathan Lockwood Huie
p.s : Please do not forget to clap 50 times!
