You fucking cunt.
Feel that on your tongue.
Isn’t it funny how that word is
so sharp and percussive when
the signified is so soft and wet?
You don’t stroke a cunt.
You stroke a pussy.
A sloppy, gliding, squirting pussy.
A Pussy will pop.
A Cunt will cut.
You can pierce it but it lives on.
It lives on your tongue and teeth
with that moment slick glide
in the middle, tantalizing and smooth
tempting you to strike once more.
It’s a good word: Cunt.
It’s the empty space in a bucket
or that’s what you’d have young
women believe. The sharp, staccato,
slaying name of their sex is degrading
and offensive. Used as nothing but a crass
insult and aggressive slur to bring a man
down. There is no in between. My sex must
be offensive or so soft it bends
under a feather.
No one says, “Fuck you, you testicle
you penis.
you ball sack.”
It doesn’t have the bite.
No they say, “Fuck you, you pussy.
you cunt.
you woman.”
Beautiful words made to hack and slash.
Made to be hid under a mattress in shame.
Made to be feared.
Next time you go to use the C-word,
think about the cunt. The lips, the labia,
the hole. Think of the woman you
are so afraid of that her very body is a threat,
and remember
my sex was made to be feared.
-Bartley
Sail, Not Drift 