Ms. Doctor says I have a beautiful cervix. Perfect, in fact. It's the only compliment I've ever smiled at sincerely. The only compliment that made you jealous, that compelled you to attempt so earnestly your own private viewing.

I remembered that night. And confessions the next morning. How I surprised you with my taste. That I tasted good. Not that others tasted bad. Just that my blend made the experience not solely of pleasing another but of pleasing yourself as well.

The discovery that sex was different with me. The angle of our curves meeting up seamlessly. Your length, my length. The same physical mold. How could it be.

That years later we are still amazed at this perfection, this symmetry.

I wish we could remove this skin that prevents us from being bone to bone, blood to blood,

as it should be.