REFLECTIONS IN A GOLDEN EYE
The eye of a voyeur is a golden eye—it reflects what the
beholder sees and what he desires.
To desire and long for something untouchable—turns us all
into Voyeurs with a Golden Eye.
This in what happened to Private Williams falling in love
with Lenora Penderton—unable to touch her but close enough at night in her bedroom to get off.
Every night she’d drink too much—passing out in bed after
Capt Penderton helped her to take off her evening dress and slip on her
nightgown.
A perfectly exquisite young athletic woman—who loved to ride
both horses and men. Private Williams couldn’t help but notice her at the
stables.
Sneaking up the stairs in his tennis shoes—sitting by her
bed and staring at what he couldn’t touch.
Instead he touched himself—pretending he was Capt Penderton making love
to his wife.
And lurking in the background was Capt Pendleton—pretending
he was Private Williams the handsome young voyeur. Both men staring, ogling and being
voyeurs—Peeping Toms indulging themselves in each other quietly in the night.
Luscious Lenora serving them both in her sleep—doubling the Golden Eye’s
pleasure and pain. Some called it a tragic flaw—the price of the unknowing peacock’s
vanity.
Such was decadent Southern grace, charm as well as grotesqueness—seducing both Peeping Tom Penderton and ogling Stud Private Williams. Doubling the
voyeurisme night—with Lenora seducing them both and not even knowing it.
Doubling the Golden Eye’s pleasure—and this went on for quite
some time. Reflecting their own pain and pleasures—for their own peacock vanities and
unrequited romance.
But so what, what’s new with all of this? Voyeurism sometimes the only way out—the
only escape from never getting what we really want?
Consumed with the peacock’s pride—both Penderton and the
private in the same boat. Horsy, hung male animality—at the mercy of itself
unthinking. And Penderton’s excess
cerebral Closetry—too thinkable, too knowable, too undeniable.
In the end, though, the Peacock’s Golden Eye—only sees itself. The
Voyeur and Peeping Tom that are you and me—in the end all we see are reflections of ourselves.
Ourselves or who we
want to be...
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