I was taught suffering is another name for holy;
that the beautiful flames of pleasure always sing
like birds before you enter them and are
consumed. Therefore, they said, think of the saints
whose bare feet bore the brand of hot coals, of Agatha
whose nipples glowed like the tiniest of nectarines
between pincers in Sebastiano del Piombo’s mural
depicting her martyrdom. And good Lord, doesn’t it
disturb you that so many of these stories involve
the torture of women because they won’t surrender
their virginity? It’s not about birds or pleasure,
fire, death by beheading. What’s so terrifying
about refusing to be pried open, about declaring
that the body and its solitudes are self-sufficient?
Excellent insight, Luisa. A woman who rejects availability? She must be punished. The Male Gaze…
Yes, exactly.