Flying Lessons

Rebecca Cook

The day my vagina opened up
and told me its secrets
I listened with my ear against my groin,
knowing that this was better than my breasts,
deeper than the dark scoop of my navel.
I tucked my yellow flowered bedspread
under my butt and inhaled the smell of my sex yawning,
waking, rubbing its eyes and leaping up.
Entering that dark channel,
I swam the current,
perfected the stroke,
parted the sea with my miracle fingers.
Mining for gold, for diamonds,
I stumbled upon the perfect stone,
the reddest ruby in her holy costume.
I opened the gateway to angels
and learned that I could fly,
though I had not dreamed of flying lessons
in my virgin's bed.

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Rebecca Cook writers poetry and prose. You can find her poems online at Adirondack Review and Slow Trains. Her essay, "Soaping the Stream," originally published in the May, 2002 issue of Northwest Review, was nominated for a Pushcart. Look for her new fiction online in the January, 2004 issue of Carve and visit her website, rebecca’s box.