racing, white foam over a cliff and then a dead drop and then it
keeps on going, running, racing, then the smooth, silk calm, the
deep calm, the long, silk body, smooth. I heard some man say I
put it in her smooth, smooth was a noun, and I knew right
away he liked children, he’s after children, there are such men;
but it’s not what I mean; I mean that together w e’re smooth, it’s
smooth, w e’re smooth on each other, it’s a smooth ride; and if I
died right after I wouldn’t feel cheated or sorry and every time
I’m happy I had her one more second and I feel proud she wants
me; and she’ll disappear, she’ll take someone else, but I’ll sit here
like a dumb little shit until she does, a student, sitting, waiting at
her feet, let her touch me once, then once more, I’m happy near
her, her freedom ’s holding me tight, her freedom ’s on me,
around me, climbing inside me, her freedom ’s embracing me;
wild woman; a wild w om an’s pussy that will not die for some
junkie prick; nor songwriter; nor businessman; nor
philosopher. The men are outside, they want to come in, I
hear them rattling around, death threats, destruction isn’t
quiet or subtle, imagine those for whom it is, safe, blessedly
safe; so in m y last minutes on this earth, perhaps, I am
remembering Rebecca who taught me freedom; I would sit
down quiet next to her, wait for her, watch her; did you ever
love a girl? I’ve loved several; loved. N ot just wanted but
loved in thought or action. Wasn’t raped by any o f them. I
mean, rape’s just a word, it doesn’t mean anything, someone
fucks you, so what? I can’t see complaining about it. But I
wasn’t hurt by any o f them. I don’t mean I w asn’t hurt by love;
shit, that’s what love does, it drags your heart over a bed o f
nails, I was hurt by love, lazy, desperate drinks through long
nights o f pain without her, hurting bad. Wasn’t pushed
around. Saw others who were. It’s not that wom en don’t. It’s
just that it had m y name on it, men said pussy or dyke or
whatever stupid distortion but I saw freedom, I heard Andrea,
I found freedom under her, wrapped around her, her lips on
me and her hands on me, in me, her thighs holding on to me;
there’s always men around waiting to break in, throw
themselves on top, pull you down; but wom en’s different, it’s
a fast, gorgeous trip out o f hell, a hundred-mile-an-hour ride
on a different road in the opposite direction, it’s when you see
an attitude that sets you free, the way she moves breaks you
out, or you touch her shoulder and exhilaration shoots
through you like a needle would do hanging from your vein if
it’s got something good in it; it’s a gold rush; your life’s telling
you that if you’re between her legs you’re free— free’s not
peaceful and not always kind, it’s fast, a shooting star you ride,
i f you’re stupid it shakes you loose and hurls you somewhere
in the sky, no gravity, no fall, just eternal drift to nowhere out
