McKenna James, Then You Feel Magnitudes, 2017.
I love you he says when
his hair falls in my face,
his eyes are on my eyes,
his nose brushes against my cheek,
his fingers trace my jaw,
his lips embrace my lips,
his arm leans against my chest,
his chest hovers over my heart,
his legs wrap around my legs,
and my arms lie dead at my side
because I have never been more uncomfortable in my life.
Or in love.
Calculus and Vectors
Graph my face and call it art.
I’ve been waiting like les Demoiselles have been waiting for their next client: eagerly
Lay me out
Like a load of laundry needed to dry
On a hot summer’s day.
(Courtesy of Shayla Hickerson, 2017)
Courtesy of Shayla Hickerson (2017)
Hit me with a hammer,
and I will crack.
Poke with me a sewing needle
and I will shatter.
I stood before you, naked.
My clothes found refuge at my feet.
And I wondered if I should be humiliated
With the odd angles at which my body curved
Inwards and out.
You found my shyness cute.
I am but a mist hanging behind the pull of your eyelids. A figment of your imagination melting in the eavesdrop after a chilling winter spent in yesterday’s embrace. The rotation of the record player started to match that of the rotation belonging to the roll of your eyes viewed in high definition from my front row seat, whilst the rate of my heart paused. The little dream you dreamt of me faded through translucent pixels as the melancholic melody was heard through a final, whispered vinyl revolution.
A white dress, a red stain seeping across the front.
Inch by inch, soaking in like wine.
Tantalizing, tainted elegancy
Delicacy destroyed with red ink.
It’s on the floor, under the bed,
Behind locked doors
Where no one can see.
They don’t want to hear either,
covering their ears and humming a hymn.
Thumping in the wardrobe,
The sash of pearls falls from the gown–
on to the unicorn’s head.
The family presses their ears against the door.
They can smell it, taste it, feel it;
God almighty lashes his reign down from the heavens,
Now it’s seven years without rain.
Instantly imprisoned — slipping from the wardrobe
the red dress clings to her figure.
A painted ‘A’ appears on the dented headrest.
Courtesy of Nadia Zywina, Immaculate, Immoral, 2017.
Photography by Fiona Robinson
Models: Nicole Norine, Sharon Selfies, Saskia Pateman, Taylor Shaw, Alisha Gosselin, Cortney Kennedy, Adrianna Harvey
It takes two to tango yet some partners are glorified with their kill number, while others are shamed for their loss of innocence. What are your thoughts on the viewpoints concerned with being ‘deflowered’?
For many, sex is associated with negative beliefs. Innocence and virginity are held with high regards. Should something so natural be so taboo?
Courtesy of Vanessa Ervin, Virginity Reflection, 2016
The word virginity is not in my vocabulary. The word hurts to think about and I instantly get uncomfortable when it arises. Such as the time it arose in Adichie’s ted talk. In her talk she discusses how she wants to create a definition for the word feminism. She does this because there doesn’t seem to be an actual clear definition for it. This got me thinking, and as pointed out by Jessica Valenti, that there is no real definition for the word virginity either. I started to think about where the term has come from, what the ideology of it today is, and lastly how I have been treated in my life based upon my state of virginity. This gave me a very strong conclusion as to what I think the definition of virginity is. With the history, double standards, and treatment of being a virgin/non-virgin in mind, I would like to talk about why I think the definition for virginity should be: A term created by society to oppress and shame women about their sexuality.
Read the full essay!