Saturday, October 29, 2005

Sinverguenza's Walk


A walk down the same stretch of street feels different depending on who you are with, what time you are walking , and what you are carrying in your bag. Two and a half weeks ago, when I first took that walk in Jackson Heights, it was an early Thursday morning. Not so early that there weren't people in the street. In fact those that didn't have off for the holiest of Jewish holidays were probably off at work. There wasn't anyone to notice that I was wearing the same clothes I had worn at the tertulia the night before, except for him. We shared an umbrella until we got to Northern Boulevard where I stepped into a livery cab. He stayed with the umbrella. When I arrived home I showered the wine, cigarettes, and kisses off. I emptied my pocketbook of the poems I read the night before and what seemed like endless pieces of flirtations written with strong smelling permanent marker on cocktail napkins .

Two mornings later I walked down that same stretch of Jackson Heights. The sun had just barely risen. The streets were not full but there were people shuffling off to work. This time I was alone, he- now converted into lover- couldn't be woken up. Maybe it was because I was alone, hailing a livery cab on Northern Boulevard in the same clothes I had worn to a party the night before. When I emptied my bag at home there were no notes, just a damp rolled up ball of turquoise fishnets.

Rachel Kramer Bussel led me to this article which reminded me of my most recent early morning treks home smelling of sex and all sorts of other delicious things. Was I ashamed that I had shared some naked time with someone else? No. Hell it made me feel pretty damn good. Most people that know me know that I'm a outwardly sexual/sensual person but it was what everyone else would think that disturbed me. Would my neighbors see me and know from that knot in my hair close to the back of my head that I had recently been on my back , legs spread with someone between them? Why the fuck should I care? But the thing is we do.

Sometimes I think though that it's not shame I feel but a certain pride and post-fuck elation. I want to tell everyone how great it was, how amazing I feel. I want to wrap it up or bottle it and share.

Early this week as I stood waiting for my daughter to be dismissed from school , I was glowing. I leaned into the personal space of a mother whose son is in the same class as my daughter and asked:

"Do I smell like sex to you?"

1 Comments:

Blogger luisalnesto said...

Nunca has imaginado que repentinamente cuando te bajas en union square mientras vas en la plataforma lo que ves son falos con piernas y bellos pubicos y vaginas en las grandes aceras de la ciudad? Ruega y vuela alto quel frio no tiƱa tu pelo de verde y que el que no vuele se quede atras por que si hay algo que no soporto es que una mujer o un hombre, no sepa volar. Loka fijae que en la ciudad hay un cojon de Bichos por ahi NyC esta lleno de simbolos falicos mangalos.

10/30/2005 10:16:00 PM  

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