Question: If I kiss you on the mouth at midnight, and let you squeeze my
tits on a medium-lit side street in Shoreditch, and then decide that actually
I’m tired and don’t fancy much more than that,
am I a bad person?
If I let you into my bed and pass you An Untamed State to rack up
rushed, untidy lines, what will you say when I simply turn around and
tell you I’m not really up for it and shall we
just go to sleep now?
While you push your manly ways up against me, because boys will be boys and
I think, god, I really can’t deal with this right now, and I say look, I can’t,
will you think, god I’m just gonna turn her over
and fuck her anyway?
While I squeeze my brown eyes shut and wish I hadn’t got so stark naked and
I will my body to just fall asleep and convince myself you’ve got the
message, will you wake up in the morning and think
‘fucking weird bitch’?
When I wake up in the morning and offer you tea and toast, will you
reject it for another line and a swig of what’s left of the wine and
insist on making me just give it a little kiss,
just a little one?
Will I be too polite to tell you to please fuck off out of my house, this is
my body, my mum told me it’s my temple and just look at this
sacrilege, my body is a temple, you should be
at my feet worshipping me?
Do I think to myself: this could have been worse, it definitely could have
been worse, but it most certainly should have been better, what a
curse, what a goddamn riddle are the unwritten rules of free love,
why isn’t this shit easier?
From my kitchen window, I watch you walk to the bus stop in yesterday’s
clothes. I strip and shower. I scrub the spilt red wine off my white blinds. I wipe
down the remains of white powder from my nightstand.
I pull my shit together. I carry on with the day
Roshni Goyate is a member of 4 BROWN GIRLS WHO WRITE.