I ask google what does pussy smell like
by Sarah Neal McCurry
I pray don’t fade through the day, through the sun's movement
across sky, don’t fade until you're home again—don’t
When your alarm broke open your dream, I put my finger
on the button, to, for a moment, make time stop, make moment
you peel sheets from your sticky, naked body come later. I remember how
you once said deer smell like horses, only more wild—
more wild—the only way I can describe you-inside—more wild
more warmth, more swamp, more musk
*
Later I ask google what does pussy smell like,
and 6,900,000 responses Words like maggot,
like dog's ass covered in horse shit, like boiled potatoes,
raw meat, ewww, fish, words like
if it smells like chicken keep on lickin, if it smells like trout get the hell out
but no google answer describes smell-of-you, still
on my fingers— more wild than any place I've ever been, any
animal eyes I've ever seen the soul inside,
more unbroken, more whole, more I-am-here
more and more I want to slow-bird, head south
where you're wet and warm inside your nest, where my tongue
always finds you, uncovered I go
over and over, circle you like prey
like you are my prayer, I make you
call out to God, I'm discerning how
alive you are, how alive over and over
you are circles until you see God's light
I don’t wash my hands a germaphobe risking the in-season flu
is how much I keep you when you're gone and I'm home
writing about your smell on my face, on my fingers
They say a dog comes to look like its owner,
spouses begin to look like each other, bleed with each other
and I wonder about our pussies—
pressed into each other's, how
they might change over years—become
softer Will twin lips open
farther as if to say to each other's, see me, see I am
pain's place no longer, no longer
gated my gates always open to let you in
and out and in again as I please
your welcoming words so wet so
I know how welcoming you are, so
all day on my fingers, I have something to remember
you by, some smell more wild on my face than I could ever describe
across sky, don’t fade until you're home again—don’t
When your alarm broke open your dream, I put my finger
on the button, to, for a moment, make time stop, make moment
you peel sheets from your sticky, naked body come later. I remember how
you once said deer smell like horses, only more wild—
more wild—the only way I can describe you-inside—more wild
more warmth, more swamp, more musk
*
Later I ask google what does pussy smell like,
and 6,900,000 responses Words like maggot,
like dog's ass covered in horse shit, like boiled potatoes,
raw meat, ewww, fish, words like
if it smells like chicken keep on lickin, if it smells like trout get the hell out
but no google answer describes smell-of-you, still
on my fingers— more wild than any place I've ever been, any
animal eyes I've ever seen the soul inside,
more unbroken, more whole, more I-am-here
more and more I want to slow-bird, head south
where you're wet and warm inside your nest, where my tongue
always finds you, uncovered I go
over and over, circle you like prey
like you are my prayer, I make you
call out to God, I'm discerning how
alive you are, how alive over and over
you are circles until you see God's light
I don’t wash my hands a germaphobe risking the in-season flu
is how much I keep you when you're gone and I'm home
writing about your smell on my face, on my fingers
They say a dog comes to look like its owner,
spouses begin to look like each other, bleed with each other
and I wonder about our pussies—
pressed into each other's, how
they might change over years—become
softer Will twin lips open
farther as if to say to each other's, see me, see I am
pain's place no longer, no longer
gated my gates always open to let you in
and out and in again as I please
your welcoming words so wet so
I know how welcoming you are, so
all day on my fingers, I have something to remember
you by, some smell more wild on my face than I could ever describe
Sarah Neal McCurry received her MFA in Poetry Writing from Sarah Lawrence College. Her poems appear or are forthcoming in: North American Review, Stone Highway Review, The Ilanot Review, Anthem Journal, Almost Five Quarterly, Wilde, Sinister Wisdom, Wicked Alice, ROAR, and elsewhere. Her chapbook, Speak So It Anchors You, was just published by Kattywampus Press. She resides outside Nashville, TN with her wife, four dogs and two cats.