Hymnal
Written by Kelly on December 1st, 2009My hands are as sure as the Virgin Mary. I do not fumble finding my children crying frightened in the dark. There is no need to whisper, Momma is here. My hands calm babies like pulpit sermons. My fingers preach the benefits of sleep.
I am these hands that rock my babies innocent to dream, then come downstairs to palm you like depravity. My fingers down you like a zipper. My palms full of meat, I move you fast as prayer. Our bodies form a perfect circle of side by side flesh. You melt on the tip of my tongue. I kiss you holy on the mouth. Oh God is what you whisper inside the sacrament you make between my legs.
After we make love, I go upstairs to check again on our sleeping children. I use my hands to gently smooth out wrinkled covers. I tuck in the stray limbs of the babies. Fold their bodies soft as angel’s wings. With my lips still warm with the taste of our communion, I bestow upon our children kisses like psalms.
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The most stunning imagery yet. You always leave me breathless and uncertain of my words.
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I miss this, this duality, this virgin/whore, satisfied in each place. I won’t have it again, not like this.
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I love how frightened everyone seems to be of this post.
That’s how you know you’ve hit a vein, sister. For some? Pupil-blowing instant euphoria. For others? Slack-jawed, drooling incapacitation.
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Jett: I like it too. Spike in stats, but ghost town in the comment zone. That says something.
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what did i write before?
you exalt the body. and that is your gift.
as true of this one as of the earlier one.
and… SACRAMENT!
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Commenting on this post is like picking up a sketch book after visiting the Louvre, or seeing Hamlet, then deciding to write a play.
Gorgeous images and feelings and word choices here-too many to choose from.
Sex is what brings 99.9% of children into this world-it’s the old Circle Of Life, like Elton John taught us. It’s natural, and as normal as breathing-nearly every pregnant belly you see is the direct result of a sexual act, but we’re conditioned not to think of it that way.
But to tie them together so artfully and neatly and with such class, and passion, and warmth. I am awestruck.
And I have gone on for several paragraphs right after saying I was unworthy to comment on it. It’s true, though-I feel humiliated by your brilliance.
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I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again — your words make me speechless. OR in this case, I could say something… but good lord, it would sound dirty.
WOW.
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Goodness but your writing gives me chills… |3
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How smoothly a woman changes gears. From lover to mother in one smooth movement. A mother cannot singlemindedly pursue one thought or interest as she multi-tasks her life.
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Very passionate both with eroticism and with love.
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As many times as I have read you, you would think I would have become accustomed to being rendered speechless. But each time, it is unique.
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I keep staring at the white space.
Sometimes that says a lot.
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I just love this. Brilliant.
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Oh christ Kelly, how do you do that? The duality and the way you express it is incredible. Love it. xx Jos
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Quite the conundrum, aren’t we?
The conscience. It makes it all interesting.
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I love this revision. Brilliant!
Also, was it you who told me of Lark & Termite? Reading it now… loving it.
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Oh my that was gorgeous writing. I’m so glad I found your blog…