I love the people in my life.
I know official goddesses like writer and activist Megan Carpentier who recently asked women in a New York Press article, “If your vagina could speak, how would she sound and what would she say.”
HERE’S MY ANSWER:
- My vagina would have the sing-songy British West Indian accent that you might hear hawking mangoes and coconut milk in a blazing hot market, yes, South of the Border.
- She would extol the virtues of her tasty wares in melodious tones that are even danceable at times.
- The song would vary depending on the situation so I can’t reveal exact lyrics but I can guarantee that her tunes are richer than any of the Bravo housewife singles!