Learning to kiss a woman
Everything in me, everything I have,
I pour into this kiss.
But what do I know?
How do I know what to do?
And yet I know to press her hard against me,
shoulders to shoulders, breasts to breasts, belly to belly.
I touch her body,
and it’s my body that is touched.
For the first time
the most delicate surgings of my female appetite
are felt by another, then reflected back
into me in an instant—
like a reply to a question
that never needs to be asked.
Sarah Roebuck earned an M.A. at the University of Windsor. Her poetry has appeared in Understorey, Nashwaak Review, The Antigonish Review, The Maynard, Dalhousie, and Other Voices, among other places. Some of her short stories can be found in The Danforth Review and carte blanche. Her visual poems can be found on YouTube at Poetmonger. She teaches French and is involved in the anti-poverty movement throughout Canada. She is a lesbian and a mother, and she lives in Toronto with her son, Teddy.
