Art by Ani Castillo
A love affair that predates yesterday, when I swam pockmarked streets, where colours coalesced like dust motes in the air, forming nightmares or pyramids, and I swatted at them like flies, ah, the joy! of multiple orgasms that reverberate across the cosmos and turn my uterus inside out, while my vagina beats out the rhythm of creation, pap-para-pap-pap-pap, punishment is being invisible, our grandmother lied to us so she could send us to bed early without dinner, three women, past, present, future, I have them on my back, yelling out directions, twisting my ear, yanking on my hair.
Perfection♡♡♡
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Thank you. You’re too kind.
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So much in so little space. I really like this, Babe.
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Thank you, Ashley. Women go through so much…
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‘punishment is being invisible, our grandmother lied to us so she could send us to bed early without dinner’ this is my favourite line (haha phone wanted to write lube there…how apt). A curious evocative blend of experiences.
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Thank you. I was going for this exactly.
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I see your typewriter is working well put for you. Quite the emotional journey, like a confused dream that straddles time.
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You’re no mere word wrangler, Babe. They dance on command. 🙂
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Wow, a powerful, fluid rhythm to these words, and a momentous hugeness, underscored and streaked with pain. Fantastic.
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Thank you! I thought it might be a song… You leave great comments, by the way.
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