We sit across from each other in the perfect ambience. You won the 10 cedis we bet because my big mouth said I would get there – , the restaurant – , before you did. You called my bluff and my ego decided to turn it into a game. You spot me as I enter, in a pink and white dress.,
“Sshit!” I mutter. I lost the bet.
“Pay up!” you say. I respect the rules of the game. This is the easiest 10 cedis you’ve made.
The space is serene. In this homophobic country, I know we are giving off mahhddd queer energy. People look. No one really says a thing. They just…look. The pseudo table candle is lit by our waitress, and we begin to speak. About everything really., Llife, adulting, relationships, expectations. I let you in on the fact that I am partnered. You let me in on the fact that you don’t do messy. We are on the same page. Your last situationship is one you are yet to tell me about. I look forward to hearing more of it next time when I am in your space.
The four pieces of shrimp on my plate are not worth it and your curry is definitely not giving. If anything, we agree we are paying to be sitting. In this beautifully secluded space with just enough yellow light to see each other’s face. I see the hunger in your eyes as you pull it out of mine. We’ve been virtually exploring the things we would do with and to each other before we had this dinner. We really worked this shit fast. Lol
Our uber arrives. We go out to get ice cream. I am lactose intolerant so I pray they have sorbet. They do! I jokingly tell you, “‘ I guess I would have swallowed air if they didn’t have sorbet!” We look gay as shit! People look. They cannot speak. They will not dare. At least not yet. I ask “What’s the plan for the rest of the night?”
You say, “I’m all yours.”
“Can we go to the beach?” You’ve mentioned it a few times and I am also hungry to be by the sea.
“Of course!”
Indeed, a great way to continue our evening. The waves, the quiet of the wind with nothing but the language of the water. Flashes of fire light behind curtains of gray clouds that dance sporadically in front of the moon in its nudity.
In the middle of a fast sentence, you trail off into “…can I kiss you?” I hold your head in mine, gently digging my nails into the side of your face and we kiss. Holding our lips together for more than a few seconds. On this night with your eyes on mine, lips on mine, hands in mine, water bearing us witness, Cherry was reborn. In power and certainty, pleasure hungry.
Cherry has always been there. Tonight, you became a key that helped me name her. She had to hide because the world had been too unkind to the wild woman who was yet to find the words from her mouth. To articulate what she will and will not, could and could not give. She did not know there was language, not taboo-ridden, that permitted her to seek and get pleasure within the safety of honest communication and communion. Cherry hid. She hid behind Ami, she hid behind Me. Cherry eventually went to sleep. Locked in a guest room in her home. Me.
Cherry woke up. Cherry did not have her name yet, but she showed up. In a gay bar when she kissed a random stranger. We knew Cherry was here again. Rubbing gently the sleep from her slumbering eyes. Ami and I were giddy with surprise and excitement. Ami and I were a bit nervous. Cherry was not alone. Ami and by extension, I and Cherry had made a friend. Peaches. Peaches held space, a healthy exploratory vulnerable space for Cherry. We still had not named Cherry yet.
After months of casting a verbal spell for the pleasure We want to experience, We meet a partner who is receptive to Cherry coming out to play. Of course, there are rules. But our partner’s reception makes Ami and I very happy. We have a choice. We choose our partner(s) because we want to, not because we are obligated to.
Cherry is still not named yet. Tonight, as we kiss and you touch my waist to feel my beads, you leave me wet and wanting you. You want me too. We do not have to figure it out. We talk openly about it. The sea leaves the legs of your pants soaking wet. My words and touch and your lust keep your panties soaking wet. We decide not to fuck until we are both tested. Smart choice.
Tonight when I get home, I think of the night we’ve had. I think of which part of me came out to play. I know who owns Ami and who owns me, but I need to name who came out today. Cherry pops in my head. I research Cherry because I am not trying to be cliché or corny. The universe makes no errors. Cherry signifies rebirth. Cherry signifies newness. Cherry symbolizes pleasure. Cherry is ruled by Venus. On this night, WE were birthed again. Wholly, without shame or guilt. We were born into pleasure, to BE pleasure. On this night, I stepped into my ‘ashawo’ SHAMELESSLY.
Cheers to packing weekend bags!
