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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