Guest post, by Sandhya.
[Painting by Frida Kahlo]
if my vagina could sing,
it will have the sound of a saxophone.
if my vagina could have a taste,
it will be the taste in the mouth of a child,
who likes to chew her slate pencil.
if my vagina could adorn herself,
it would use fresh and wild paalappookkal,
which blooms into the midnight.
if my vagina would fall in love,
it would do so with sree.
if my vagina wanted to get drunk,
it would take golconda ruby wine,
plus two sips of vodka.
if my vagina wanted to give birth,
it would to neethu, sudha and pooja.
if my vagina wanted to unwind,
it would swim in the waters of souparnika,
which carries the scent of an untouched forest.
if my vagina were a little more romantic,
it would miss those unbearably beautiful, still crookedly sharp,
of her ultimate lover of the past.
if my vagina wanted to see herself in a portrait,
it would be that of a woman, earth and tree,
and she 'd lie between careless and open thighs,
adorned with red,
aroused by her own scent,
breathing very slowly, relaxed.
and if my vagina could change one thing about herself,
she would happily say goodbye to periods,
which pierces her, which violates her with that adamant flow of blood.
[inspired by gigi's blog.]