This endeavor emerged from the most unusual period in our collective existence – the unprecedented Pandemic of 2020. As with countless others, I found myself contemplating an ambiguous future, in the company of a newfound companion who hovered in that enigmatic realm between “stranger” and confidant. Time seemed to propel forward, yet as languidly as molasses.

The compositions within Love Slave Auction each narrate a tale – one I hope vividly enough to kindle an understanding of my own journey, and perhaps, yours as well. It commenced with “BubbleGum” – an inception marked by conversations that transcended the surface, a shared exploration of boundaries, and the forging of fresh memories amidst the echo of past experiences. A sensation of contentment enveloped us, so much so that we chose to embrace this connection, even within the confines of uncertainty.

“The Moment” aptly captures the realization that serendipity had graced me with a profound gift during the bleakest epoch the world had witnessed. A belief that I had stumbled upon a piece of heaven, blissfully ignorant of its eventual toll.

Yet, like banners of caution unfurling in the wind, red “Flags” appeared. I was hesitant to lend them credence – a reflection, perhaps, of the tumult unfolding externally and internally. A scenario we all might recognize: observing actions that prick at our intuition, allowing them to slip into obscurity. Gradually, an accumulation of such instances demands recognition, the truth laid bare before us.

Then emerges the chapter titled “STAY LONGER” – a phase when alterations in behavior become evident. Wishing fervently for a return to the recent past, an inner conflict brews. While granting a measure of leniency, it becomes clear that distance would have been the wiser path. Yet, circumstances pinned us all indoors, rendering escape an elusive prospect.

And so, the narrative unfurls, culminating in “LOVE SLAVE AUCTION / HOW I FEEL.” The denouement arrives, a hindsight vision quest stitching together scattered fragments, revealing an unspoken refrain that should have resonated throughout the journey. I observed my own narrative unfold as if watching a cinematic odyssey – a world teetering on the edge of collapse, futures shrouded in ambiguity, and love slipping through my grasp.

Now, with the dust of that chapter settled, I stand on the outside once more. Regret rests upon my shoulders, the weight of unspoken words. “The Love Slave Auction” beckons an inquiry: who wields the voice when we’re shackled within?

Written by AMA IZIIAN, Devon (Medina) Munroe