v u l v a l i c i o u s
Coming together, and apart at the seams
I feel disjointed today, like someone has pulled me apart at some of my minor seams, and though I didn’t notice it while they did it, I can feel it now that I am leaking here and there, spilling out onto nice clean floors and looking more disheveled than usual.
I have soaked up the day. I have consumed it the way I eat chocolate covered cherries, nibbling at the exterior only to suck out the best juices before biting an end off to reveal the cherry; reveling in the cherry with my entire mouth, pulling it out delicately with my tongue before I sweep out the last bits of juice from the remaining chocolate; biting into the cherry gently until, in a fit of food lover’s desperation, I eat the chocolate and cherry together, their flavors mingling and intertwining in a heavenly twinge of bliss.
But you see, the day has also consumed me too. It has left me feeling bored and half-eaten. The day was anorexic, I think, and couldn’t stand the thought of finishing me off—thus the feeling of separation, of being ripped at the least of my seams and left dangling.
Earlier today, I let my Cunt roar. This was when the day felt boundless, when I thought that, though I had not used my time wisely, time was certainly not using me. (No never no)
We were in a good place, me and my Cunt. She asked me in and I acquiesced, too quickly, I thought at first, but no—at just the right time. The room was well-lit, and my thoughts were bland. They were sexual, but barely even boring. Then I was there, and my Cunt was magic all over again.
She was spilling and talking and singing, and at one point she was dancing, twirling around the room like a fucking whirling dervish. Neither of us stopped to marvel, but we both pressed on, wondering where she would go next. She was Up Out Mystery Grrl, taking me with her like it was her job, and one that she loved doing.
She came to thunderous applause in my mind, to teeth biting blankets to keep mouths quieter, to car alarms sounding out like church bells calling nuns from mountains. She came. I came to her, to the sound of her, to everything she calls holy and good and right with the world.
Sometimes, there is nothing better than me and my Cunt, together, coming. Perfection.