Kneel – by Brigitte Lewis

I’ve knelt down and opened my mouth to check the heart-beat of many women
it lives there
louder than the organ that sustains us
but only this time have I opened my heart wider than my legs
and said

I love you for the way you make my eyes widen before our lips have a chance to re-connect
for the spreading you enact across my skin more thorough than the spread of red across your neck after your first sip of booze no matter how little you take in
and I know you take it all
I’ve seen you breathe in the beginnings of words so swiftly my mind gets whiplash before the space between you having an answer and me having another question has time to even dance.

And the way you dance is why hips were created
not a swan song to reproduction or biological evolution
but little revolutions
on the dance floor
between our sheets
and the streets we walk
laboured
wide open
and fractured
with the footsteps
we walk across
to find some kind of freedom

hands clasped
fingers bleeding feeling
heads held high
after mornings of crook necks
and outstretched tongues

finding pleasure in each-others’ beginnings

this rapture isn’t a myth
and I’m not a bone from Adam’s rib
I am the end of God’s creation
another story to take home
and tell the grandkids I will never have
and the death certificate that will read
unmarried

I love you for the fierce softness that fingers the little bruises under my chest telling them to heal as you let your desire fire grenades into my limbs stopping time with every hurricane that rushes over your eyes

a creation story in every kiss
is still more real than the fables
I read when I was in awe of moon face, of fanny
and dick, in the treehouse I always wished existed

but sometimes
everything I ever wanted meets for moments
sometimes days
I have run towards since I believed that dreams could come true
and with you
they do.

with you non-fiction is more beautiful than any story I’ve read yet.
and I’ve read so many books my skin has yellowed with the age
of those pages

I still want to yellow
but I want to red, pink, green, and blue with you
I want to red, pink, green, blue, yellow, orange, black, brown and violet with you.

 

Brigitte Lewis is a scholarly, literary and poetic writer. She has written on a range of diverse topics including feminisms and feminist digital activisms, lesbian and other types of sex and desire, and cosmopolitanism. She also has skills in the translation of research for mainstream readerships.

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