v u l v a l i c i o u s
we need to talk about this. desire, this strange animal, how it moves between us so soft and so dangerous.
my body is not mine, not right now. in the light of the afternoon, i undo myself into component parts: hand, arm, neck, breasts, stomach, cunt, legs, feet. my head is missing, swimming somewhere or else carried off, grasped in teeth and held against warm fur.
and your mouth, the way you're talking just now, in the cold, illuminated under too bright lights. it makes me want you. i swear you slide your eyes to me, a proposal. talking about desire like it's nothing, like speaking these words out loud is no different from ordering take out or getting change for a twenty. meanwhile i stutter and speak in code. hide my head, burrowed down against myself for protection.
but then i swear that you, too, are speaking in code. what else could this be? whispered conversations. a study in parentheticals and ellipses. i would read the spaces between us like a map, if i were any good at that. but my only direction is forward, my true north whichever way i am facing. i look up and try to engage with what's ahead, not crying once and never looking back.
but desire. desire is an animal with claws and a heart. hunger and need, fur and feeling. aching, keening, scratching to get in: desire does not take no for an answer. i feel it now, pushing against me. soft but insistent, now, but baring its teeth nonetheless.