Ceding Control, with a capital C: letting go of the power of my limbs, my mind to take you the mat when you raise  an unfair upperhand; but most of all, silence. Relinquishing the stream of thoughts running, my eyes darting –connected to a mindvision that’s always looking for a way to stay safe. That shit, it captivates me. If I could be taken captive, that is.  I’m a lone wolf, one groomed into being by the many midnight walks that inhabit every inch of this OBESØN track.  The beats here slink like streetlights made into spotlights on your saunter for a bit of meaning. A meaning you find by allowing those midnight moments to shine on all strengths and potholes of your soul.   You’ve learned yourself, you can forgive yourself for anything that’s true to you in some way. And that, ultimately, makes you uncontrollable.  A thick hide forms,  so do thick calves to run, and you soak in the steel of the city to form an undergirth that lets you stand solid against anything that goes bump in the night.

And lovers, they can be that bump. Dishonesty and guilt tripping  swirling, abounding in the midst of vulnerability. It’s inevitable.  I told you my weaknesses to give you a way in, and you like a thief in the night backstab me with them, right in the heat of the body moment.  I tried to let go for you, my powerful body a naked mannequin to dress for a new affair of the mind.  But one wrong move and that mannequin bares it’s teeth, it stares at you, my passivity swirling into a impassive coldness.  You thought all the shit I spouted was conditional, but it was everything that I am.  And now, no matter how much you try, you can’t control me.

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