She kissed me gentle, kissed me slow, kissed me like Grace Kelly, a porcelain princess, a lace-curtain lesbian.
I told her, Don’t touch me that way. Don’t come at me with that sour-cream smile. Come at me as if I were worth your life – the life we make together. Take me like a turtle whose shell must be cracked, whose heart is ice, who needs your heat. Love me like a warrior, sweat up to your earlobes and all your hope between your teeth. Love me so I know I am at least as important as anything you have ever wanted.
Dorothy Allison, “Two or Three Things I Know for Sure”