"I am speaking precisely the body of it."
From this sensual piece by Yuknavitch, the statement says it all. A woman explores her own sexuality with another woman, in front of a camera, and finds she is not afraid of it. The straightforward manner in which the narrator, in the first person, makes her case is startling perhaps but quite breathtaking.
It's not porn you are reading when you read this story, the narrator warns, or rather cautions. There is nothing dramatized about it. There's no music, no high heels or red lipstick. It quietly slips along, scene by scene, movement by movement, an accounting of a moment fixed in time both by the narrator's memory and by the photographs taken by her lover.
Yuknavitch definitely speaks the body of it in this story. Endlessly.
Here's a link to the story online for your reading pleasure: