Triskellion
Aug. 9th, 2004 10:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
purplerabbitI wrote this two years ago. I am reposting it because sometimes when things have been too hard for too long, we need to remember what it is that makes it worthwhile:
Triskellion
A triad is not just one more person. It isn’t two relationships or even three - it’s at least four. Our triad is not simply a triangle with three sides; it is a triskellion, a swirling moving living energy. We are a triple spiral of energy that constantly shifts in intensity and direction. While each two people involved have a relationship, i.e. three couples, there is also the dynamic of our combined energies. The cliché’ is true, the whole is greater than the sum. It’s really more like an order of magnitude. A triskellan is not a three-legged table. It is not static. Triskellan is a complex dance that shifts the lead as part of the pattern.
I love Troy. While I am capable of imagining life without him, I don’t like to. I cannot imagine willingly being without him for very long. Troy is for me both warm and comforting yet impossible to completely understand. One minute I can finish his sentences, the next I have no idea what he is trying to say. Holding him makes my entire body sigh with relief, like I was holding my breath and didn’t know it. His scent is deep woods - musk, pine, and sandalwood - all wild and peaceful at the same time. He is shaman, archer and swordsman. He is a hearth fire and a lush forest; he is solid earth and the shifting that is the earthquake. He is the wolf and the stone. While my mind often finds him alien, incomprehensible - my body recognizes him as part of my flesh - touching my flesh to his is like making me whole again.
I love Lon. He is dark and pale and fierce. He is quiet and vulnerable. He is a roaring bonfire and a lone candle. I often find myself wondering how we ever survived without him. It feels like to do so would be like losing a limb. Our dance was more awkward without him. Now the flow is more even, and stronger. His words both written and spoken excite me. He is wizard, priest and caviler. His intensity sometime frightens, often excites. I feel him strong and powerful. Yet he is often fragile. He is like crystal - glittery, solid and delicate. His scent is leather, curry and maybe, blood. He is sharp and deep. I am often shocked by his ability to crumble soon after a demonstration of amazing strength. My heart longs to heal his wounds, my mind glories in his brilliance. I both fear his power and glory in it. He is the ageless vampire and the innocent child.
They are as different as black and white, while so alike as to be two sides of the same coin. At surface you could say that they are the same - brown eyes, long brown hair, muscular bear body, beard and mustache, gamer, queer, geek.
Troy’s hair is a cascade of lush curls that glow like copper in the red light of fire. His eyes are golden brown like a wolf. His muscles are hard and his skin soft and furry. While average in height, his powerful muscles make him appear both shorter and larger at the same time. He is the passive-aggressive soft-spoken dominant. He is not in charge, nor is anyone really in charge of him either, though he might like to let them think it. He is like a strong oak. He does not bend easily but he provides shelter.
Lon’s hair is a fall of dark brown, almost black, satin - lately streaked with silver. Like silver threads in a dark cloth. His skin is pale, making his dark beard and mustache seems almost sinister. His eyes are dark brown like rich dark chocolate or a deep cave. His lashes are long and feminine, all the more striking against his soft pale skin. While his body is also muscular and thick, his arms and legs are long almost sinuous. He is tall, but appears taller. He is the fierce bottom who is never submissive. He is a large cat who will lick your hand before sinking his fangs into your neck.
My fraternal twin lovers. My adventure seeking, gluttonous Sagittarians. My husbands. I am soul-bound to you. We share our power with each other. You let me pretend to be in charge sometimes because you are drawn to my power. You revel in your publicly dominant difficult woman who would fight for you and with you. Yet, you enjoy the small girl-child who needs your comfort. You need to be needed by someone who would intimidate others.
I am Dawn. I am air to your fire. I am the too-serious take-charge woman who has learned how to laugh and to cry because you make my vulnerability possible. I am “the little butch-witch with two husbands.” I am curving womanly body with a butch haircut to match my boyish ways. My eyes are sky blue with a darker blue outer circle like the edge of dusk. My hair is impossibly thick sandy brown with hints of the former blonde. The lighter hair shows in my three braided tails that flow down the back to my waist. My skin is very pale but with olive shading rather than pink. My very sharp teeth and my long hard nails give my outward sign to the lioness and kitten that lurk inside. I like both to cuddle and to play rough. I will defend my pride - both kinds -- my heart and my clan.
Our energies swirl. Sometimes it is a gentle flow of domestic bliss. We sit in our living room reading books, watching TV, typing on the computer and know that we are content. Sometimes in the public display - the three who are one. So much so that we communicate with eyes and gestures across the room while seeming not to notice the others as we host the party. And there is the fierce energy of the argument that threatens to send us spinning away from each other. There is also the dizzying whirl of love and sex and adventure and ideas. We are never just one. Nor are we ever just three. We are triskellan.
Triskellion
A triad is not just one more person. It isn’t two relationships or even three - it’s at least four. Our triad is not simply a triangle with three sides; it is a triskellion, a swirling moving living energy. We are a triple spiral of energy that constantly shifts in intensity and direction. While each two people involved have a relationship, i.e. three couples, there is also the dynamic of our combined energies. The cliché’ is true, the whole is greater than the sum. It’s really more like an order of magnitude. A triskellan is not a three-legged table. It is not static. Triskellan is a complex dance that shifts the lead as part of the pattern.
I love Troy. While I am capable of imagining life without him, I don’t like to. I cannot imagine willingly being without him for very long. Troy is for me both warm and comforting yet impossible to completely understand. One minute I can finish his sentences, the next I have no idea what he is trying to say. Holding him makes my entire body sigh with relief, like I was holding my breath and didn’t know it. His scent is deep woods - musk, pine, and sandalwood - all wild and peaceful at the same time. He is shaman, archer and swordsman. He is a hearth fire and a lush forest; he is solid earth and the shifting that is the earthquake. He is the wolf and the stone. While my mind often finds him alien, incomprehensible - my body recognizes him as part of my flesh - touching my flesh to his is like making me whole again.
I love Lon. He is dark and pale and fierce. He is quiet and vulnerable. He is a roaring bonfire and a lone candle. I often find myself wondering how we ever survived without him. It feels like to do so would be like losing a limb. Our dance was more awkward without him. Now the flow is more even, and stronger. His words both written and spoken excite me. He is wizard, priest and caviler. His intensity sometime frightens, often excites. I feel him strong and powerful. Yet he is often fragile. He is like crystal - glittery, solid and delicate. His scent is leather, curry and maybe, blood. He is sharp and deep. I am often shocked by his ability to crumble soon after a demonstration of amazing strength. My heart longs to heal his wounds, my mind glories in his brilliance. I both fear his power and glory in it. He is the ageless vampire and the innocent child.
They are as different as black and white, while so alike as to be two sides of the same coin. At surface you could say that they are the same - brown eyes, long brown hair, muscular bear body, beard and mustache, gamer, queer, geek.
Troy’s hair is a cascade of lush curls that glow like copper in the red light of fire. His eyes are golden brown like a wolf. His muscles are hard and his skin soft and furry. While average in height, his powerful muscles make him appear both shorter and larger at the same time. He is the passive-aggressive soft-spoken dominant. He is not in charge, nor is anyone really in charge of him either, though he might like to let them think it. He is like a strong oak. He does not bend easily but he provides shelter.
Lon’s hair is a fall of dark brown, almost black, satin - lately streaked with silver. Like silver threads in a dark cloth. His skin is pale, making his dark beard and mustache seems almost sinister. His eyes are dark brown like rich dark chocolate or a deep cave. His lashes are long and feminine, all the more striking against his soft pale skin. While his body is also muscular and thick, his arms and legs are long almost sinuous. He is tall, but appears taller. He is the fierce bottom who is never submissive. He is a large cat who will lick your hand before sinking his fangs into your neck.
My fraternal twin lovers. My adventure seeking, gluttonous Sagittarians. My husbands. I am soul-bound to you. We share our power with each other. You let me pretend to be in charge sometimes because you are drawn to my power. You revel in your publicly dominant difficult woman who would fight for you and with you. Yet, you enjoy the small girl-child who needs your comfort. You need to be needed by someone who would intimidate others.
I am Dawn. I am air to your fire. I am the too-serious take-charge woman who has learned how to laugh and to cry because you make my vulnerability possible. I am “the little butch-witch with two husbands.” I am curving womanly body with a butch haircut to match my boyish ways. My eyes are sky blue with a darker blue outer circle like the edge of dusk. My hair is impossibly thick sandy brown with hints of the former blonde. The lighter hair shows in my three braided tails that flow down the back to my waist. My skin is very pale but with olive shading rather than pink. My very sharp teeth and my long hard nails give my outward sign to the lioness and kitten that lurk inside. I like both to cuddle and to play rough. I will defend my pride - both kinds -- my heart and my clan.
Our energies swirl. Sometimes it is a gentle flow of domestic bliss. We sit in our living room reading books, watching TV, typing on the computer and know that we are content. Sometimes in the public display - the three who are one. So much so that we communicate with eyes and gestures across the room while seeming not to notice the others as we host the party. And there is the fierce energy of the argument that threatens to send us spinning away from each other. There is also the dizzying whirl of love and sex and adventure and ideas. We are never just one. Nor are we ever just three. We are triskellan.
