I want to have sex with someone, a person. It could be a man or it could be a woman or it could be a man who was once a woman or a woman who was once a man or someone who is both all the time and every day. The person could be ugly or pretty or have no looks at all. I said this to my sister the other day and then I added the words full stop for emphasis, which means there’s nothing else to say on the subject and I don’t want to hear it. So the way it sounded was the person could be ugly or pretty or have no looks at all full stop. I said they can be a walking piece of paper or they don’t have to walk even one step, they can be immobile, bed-ridden. I don’t need for someone to be ambulatory to have sex. I don’t care about age or race or color or creed or how tall or short the person is or how fat, either. I don’t care if they have a clubfoot or a trick knee. I don’t care if they have a widow’s peak or plantar’s wart. They can be wall-eyed or cross-eyed or cock-eyed. I want to have sex with someone, someone who is living and sucking in oxygen. This is when my sister said something crass in response. My sister can be like that full stop. This is why I stopped talking to my sister and walked to a different part of the house. As I was walking my sister said, what about me, what about what I want and I can’t even mention what she wants because it’s awful. I said out loud to myself that I want consent but after consent is given they can lapse into a coma. I can say do you consent to sex and they can say yes and I can say if you lapse into a coma can I keep going and if they say yes then we’ll be right for each other. I know my sister didn’t hear me say that because she walked away in a different direction and slammed a door for emphasis. So I said loud enough that she could hear me through the door that I want to be prepared for all eventualities, for disappointment and fear and resentment and death. I want to be ready for regret. I want the person to know they can continue the sex with me should I die in the effort. Death shouldn’t slow either of us down, not for half a step. If my sister were in the same room she’d say something crass about this, too, which is why whenever I talk to my sister I wonder why I bother and all I can answer myself it’s because she’s the only other person in the house. But that doesn’t mean I want her to talk back because when I’m talking the other person should only listen and not say nothing in return, especially if it’s about what she wants because I don’t want to hear it. So, sister, even after I die in the effort there should be urgency and dread, the desperate commingling, the push and pull, give and go, stick and move. Me and the other someone, a person and it could be early in the morning or late at night or come high noon on a Tuesday. The weather can rain or snow or sleet or hail or hurricane or tornado. It could be outside in a park or inside a bedroom or jail cell or up in the air or down in a hole on top of the world and under the covers. I want to have sex with someone that’s a person in the world or elsewhere, here or abroad, body and soul, and I don’t want to hear anything else, sister, full stop.
