NEWSLETTER

But she was in there for fucking. I mean that’s pretty good. There was a small woman who had a lacy-looking pussy that she hated. There was like this frottage over her clit. Instead of a hood it had a large mantilla. She wasn’t the kind of woman who could laugh at her puss. It made her sick what she considered her irregularity, the wave of skin that dangled between her legs. I would have told her it was pretty if she let me. It was unique. She was not a girl even slightly about letting, allowing, suffering anything at all. She had levels of protection like the shaft of an elevator. She was way up there somehow, unknown but looking down like a little girl incredibly mean who could issue commands. After her orgasms, screaming ugh. Then I met a woman who described her clit as a monster. There is nearly no woman who regards her pussy as normal. I remember seeing a pussy I recognized on the back outside cover of an art magazine. It was like it was supposed to be a big secret whose pussy it was. I mean they didn’t say her name underneath though they did give you the name of the photographer which was kind of a hint. But then everyone said oh yeah, you saw the picture of blank’s pussy, like everyone was really in on it. But I recognized the pussy. I actually knew her tits better than her pussy, because her tits were that kind that are indented, the tip of the nipple goes in, not out. Which is incredibly common, or else coincidentally I had two such breasts (or girlfriends) back to back which made me think it must be common. The first one’s did look odd to me. I can’t imagine what straight women do, going through life only being looked at by men and doctors. At some point you always have to have a frank conversation about the tits or the puss or the ass. If you live with her you have it day in and day out. Maybe men do this too. The girl I described as extraordinarily hungry—she in fact regarded her puss with the same enthusiastic love as any other part of her, perhaps that was her oddity (to me). Her pussy was no more special than her fingertips or cheek. Sexually she was entirely alive, so neither liked nor disliked her clit, it was her. It was the whole rest of the world she had a problem with, so it was great she had this gift, her wonderful successful body. The woman who regarded hers as monstrous nonetheless is entirely addicted to hers. I was too. The tiny shelf of skin I slipped my tongue and finger alongside of, it’s like the backside of a rubber duck. And so I knew my sweet toy’s edges in the dark quietly going to sleep with ducky in mind. The hood of it was slick, so she had a small cap between her legs a bullet of pleasure and power. Even after she had one of her outrageous sunset orgasms which she details while still basking in its immense succulent corona slowly with an utterly generous and female smile on her face, a satisfied smile and kind, she urges me to put my finger on her secret fingertip and feel the blood pump as the pleasure is ebbing away. She’s always ready for a nap and then to go again. She’s always just finding it. Every time we fuck she forgets that it’s ever been that great before. Her eyes are closed and she proclaims that never, never before has she experienced anything to even remotely approach what that felt like. Does sex ever feel like this for a man. Does his tree change and spout. Does his system get up, does he go. I once was laying in bed with her and she got me off just by touching and I am still sinking backward in that picture, a morning in which I lie in bed looking out the window at a passing train.

EILEEN MYLES
This piece is an excerpt from the forthcoming The Inferno/a poet’s novel.


So… why pussy?

I don’t know. It seems like every female artist at some point does, you know, pussy photographs. And it’s like, is that beautiful or is that horrendous? There’s such a diversity of opinion about the female… genitals—outside of their use. That’s agreed upon.

It’s true.

And I’d never seen a female writer do just like a procession of beaver shots. So I said, “I’m just gonna do pussy wallpaper.”

Is it based on, you know, real people?

It’s many people. Many different real people.


TAPESTRY | 1 | 2 |

< PREV

MORE FROM THIS ISSUE

NEXT >

POST A COMMENT [SIGN IN] Hi, in case you haven't heard, you can now sign up to become a "member" of Viceland.com, which entitles you to all sorts of amazing benefits like pictures and a nickname. Click here to make your own profile. You can still comment if you don't, but you gotta do it all 'nonymously.

Name:
Comment: