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it wasn't
for want
of regular experimenting,
but somehow
I could never achieve
that blissful state that others
told me I'd definitely recognize.
I looked
in books,
but they were anatomical
and talked of labia and uteri
and eggs and swimming sperm
and weren't much use
at all.
I filled my mind
with images erotic
from well-thumbed paragraphs
in Portnoy's Complaint and Lady Chatterley,
but these served only to intensify
the awful realization
that I would never enjoy
the mind-blowing experience they all wrote about.
And it wasn't
that I didn't delight
in the act of making love
and feel intensely erotic sensations
in those places I imagined I should.
It's just that I knew that there was something more.
And then
you came along
and with obstinate patience,
placed your hand in just the right place
and stroked and rubbed and coaxed until
my body felt a new and pleasant sensation
that vaguely mirrored childhood in the bath
and slowly the sensation grew
until I knew
that something irresistable would definitely happen
and found myself without pretense
as my body writhed and squirmed
and screamed
in tantalizing ecstasy.
Thereafter, I did it regularly
After all, practice makes perfect...
Alison Cassidy
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