Occasionally when I’m waiting for my coffee I remember that everyone has genitals and relearn the concept of object permanence. I always forget that my body has the capacity to feel pleasure until we are really truly “doing it.” They like it when I’m on top because they think that means I’m in control. I have never been in control of anything, ever, but nevertheless [i] persisted to want to control how others perceive me, especially on top. The french call it “a little death” because having an orgasm while on SSRIs is just a reminder that I will be at the mercy of serotonin until I stop producing it, i.e. ^^——^—^———. In sex education they liked to warn us – in terms of STIs – that having sex with someone is the same as having sex with everyone they’ve ever had sex with. The approximate translation for this is “please wear a condom or don’t have sex” but the orgy as metaphor is admittedly more enticing than not. I know how sensitive I am on any given day based on how many good sneezes would equal each respective climax. It’s hard to rush at my “little death” in bed – and in life – because my body has evolved to not let me. I know because people go down on me and I ascend thinking about my grocery list.
Lucia Gallipoli is an undergraduate student concentrating in sexuality, love, and art. She is probably lost somewhere in the cycle of worshipping Mitski and Kate Bush via Spotify and forgetting that they exist for a few weeks. Her book reviews can be found on Instagram @TenderPages.
Kristin Garth & Pink Plastic House a tiny journal 