I like a hand close to my vagina. A hand at rest; still but not stiff, calmly stationary. There can be no anxious twitching or scratching in the hand close to my vagina. The hand cannot want anything but to stay there. It is not as if my vagina is constantly under attack. I’m not saying the whole world lunges, swarms in, to snatch a piece of it. I’m saying everything goes by too fast. I’m saying sometimes it’s nice to have a small, calm center. A hand can hold a whole person down. Even small weight, when applied correctly, can have a soothing effect. There are heavy blankets, made out of a special weighted material, in special education classrooms, to help calm the kids who need help calming down. The blankets do this trick for them. It is inappropriate for a woman of my age to carry around such a blanket. I live in a big metropolitan area. I would be setting a bad example. People expect a certain amount of independence and a blanket such as the one used in special education classrooms would communicate a deviation from assisted living. The thing is, living in a big metropolitan area, there is often a lot of noise. There are many people who need many different things, and there are many confrontations to contend with. And when I spend time with just one other person, if their hand is resting close to my vagina, they tend to calm down and not need so much. And what I have needed, what I mean when I say I like a hand close to my vagina, is that I want the person I’m with to stop talking.
Kayla Blatchley is a writer living in Brooklyn. She blogs at blackballoonpublishing.com and is Assistant Editor at the literary annual NOON. She has also been published in the literary magazine Unsaid.