“If I had a different sensibility, then you know I think I could, you know, really fulfill someone down there, where a lot of men in their lives don’t. And eating pussy is a metaphor, too – it’s about crawling in there, being with their juices, really being with them.” (Unknown, from Here. In My Head)
This has so many edges. Tart and prickly, raspberries are.
Raspberry Swirl is about flavor. Raining flavor. What does it look like? Depth. Sweet ginger. Sweat. Damp moss. Yummy candy. The South Pacific.
The hilarity of Tori obliquely saying, “you have to lick it before you kick it.”
But where does it fit in this narrative? Already it is clear that we’ve lost something – a spark, a voice, a way home. Is she even a woman anymore? She is not your senorita, but she’s still not part of your patriarchal tribe.
Berdache, they called the bodies that contained the masculine and the feminine spirit at once.
She’s telling her Beenie, “I know he can’t do it for you. And you need it. And if he can’t – won’t – I will be there. Everybody knows I’m her friend. Everybody knows I’m her man.”
Yes, Tori. But have you forgotten how to be yourself?