Being Julie London

o

Always music in the house
always
from a young age
I remember
Sinatra
Duke Ellington
The Beatles
Sara Vaughan 

music permeated our days and nights
my oh my, how my mother loved to dance  

might be the one singularly magical thing she taught me 

no lessons on cooking
sewing
gardening or laundry 

no baking classes or tidy tips
she
taught
me
to dance
And
there
was this one album

Julie London

She was on the cover in about 6 different calendar-girl poses
Crazy sexy--before I knew what crazy sexy was
I wanted to be Julie London
Not Petula Clark, Jane Fonda, Gloria Steinem, or Nancy Sinatra
(ok, well, maybe a little Nancy Sinatra .... ) (Jane Fonda happened later)
my folks loved Julie London
I was infatuated with her
At night, when I was presumably fast asleep--would fold
tuck & tender my baby doll pajamas
fluffy white earmuffs became a bra
a stuffed pink boa constrictor
as well ....... a boa

and
I would dance.
The music played in my head
feminine-ruffly-bowed-pink I was
smelling of cigarettes & roses. 

I believed sex must be the grandest thing. ever.  

Such frosted womanly power : coy but sure. Shy, but not.
Soft, yet daring. 

the love of the contrast of things
So
by day

mild
unassuming
Susie Chapstick

Blond pony-tails, and innocent visage
poised
polite
expected
night--a wild thing;

Hungry for something I'd never seen, never tasted
But i knew it hung from the cosmos; 

brilliant like a star with dark shimmering edges

Then one day - at a fairly young age
probably in summer
probably in June 

I woke up and knew I was not where I was supposes to be

Wrong planet
wrong decade
wrong four walls
wrong baby doll pajamas

Not Julie London
nor Jane Fonda
I was all wrong
A door was shut, locked

The mask placed

Then another day 

a day when someone touches you a certain way

maybe it's in the front seat of a car
on a summer lawn under stars

or on a parents bed 

a match is lite
a fire sparked

fireworks are felt in the seat of your soul 

and 

you simultaneously lose yourself

and find yourself
the collide of skin opens the door
back into yourself.
Maybe it's the raw honesty & explosion of sensation

maybe it's in the vulnerability

or maybe it's tasting Julie-London-Frosting
But the door is open

and you are finally in the right place