Andrea Dworkin - Mercy

feet— m y feet; he kisses m y legs, I feel a searing pain in m y leg,

I feel a terrible bad pain, I feel sharp shots o f pain, then he

rams, he kisses, he pushes, he pushes m y legs apart, he pushes

them back, he rams, he kisses, he must o f read a book, girls

like this, girls like that, you kiss girls, you kiss them; you kiss

them; he’s kissing me and saying things as if we are friends or I

know him or something and then he rams in, brutal bastard,

and then he’s a lover, kissing; and this is m y body but it ain’t, I

say it ain’t, I say it ain’t, I say I ain’t here and it ain’t me; but

time’s real — time is real — time’s real; there’s a long time until

dawn, there’s a couple o f hours until six and then there’s

m aybe an hour after that until there’s real light, you know,

sun, sun coming down from the sky, sun filtering down

through the cold, sun traveling down; heating up, even a little,

the streets, stone cold, steel-like daggers, the slab they lay you

out on; m y slab, a stone cold street; and a girl who wants to

live, such a girl, a girl who fucking wants to live doesn’t go out

until dawn, can’t go out until dawn; girls don’t go out at night;

girls who want to live don’t go out at night; you need light to

go out; you need sun; you need daylight; you need it to be a

little warmer, you need the edge o ff the cold, you need the

wind warmed up a little, you need it pale out, not dark, you

need it yellow or yellowish or even a flat silver or gray, a dull

gray, you need it gray or grayish or a dirty white at least, you

need it ash or a pale, pale blue as if it’s got a wash over it, a

watercolor wash, a greenish hue, or you need it to be pink, a

pinkish color, you need it pink, a little pink and a little warm ,

pinkish and warmish, you need light, you need light that’s

fresh and new, wholesome, washed in a subtle pastel color, a

pale hue, you need real light, honest light, well-established

light, not half dark, not stained by dark, not transitory or

illusory, you need it yellow from sun or even silver or gray,

you need it heated up, cozy, as if someone lit a match and

burned it to heat up the air, you need the sun m ixing with the

wind, a touch o f heat, you need it to be daytime if you’re a girl

so you can be safe and warm and at night you have to stay

inside so you w on’t get hurt; you don’t go out after dark; you

stay inside at night, you don’t be stupid and fuck up or some

stranger could hurt you, some bad man, a Nazi or some ghoul.

Y ou got to stay inside and if there’s a boy who likes you he’ll

sit next to you and he’ll kiss you and you can just stay with

him. Paul’s asleep. H e’s pinning me down, half on top o f me, a

lover but slightly displaced, half on me, half on the bed, it’s a

single bed, it’s been light a long time, two hours, three hours, I

watched the light come, it’s slow at first, then it’s sudden, it’s

pale today, a delicate yellow, a pale cold tone, I’m a student o f

light and time; my eyes are swollen open as if I saw something

that fixed them in place but I didn’t see nothing special, I

always wait with m y eyes open, I had them open, I didn’t close

them, it doesn’t help to close them, I waited for light but he

didn’t stop just because there was light, sometimes something’s important to you but it doesn’t matter to someone else

but you don’t know that, you don’t understand it, he lasted

well past the light and then he fell asleep without m oving

much, I wouldn’t have minded turning into a pumpkin but the

lovely lady had to stay at the ball, the beautiful princess loved

by the boy, he liked her so much; then he fell asleep without

m oving much, his body the full length o f mine, half on me,

half off, his arms holding onto me, one spread over me, dead

weight, one leg was spread over me, dead weight; and I was

completely still, I stayed completely still, except m y eyes

wander, and I decide I’m never going to lie down again, I’m

never going to lie down on m y back, I’m going to sit or I’m

going to stand up always from now on, in alleys or in

apartments or anywhere, and I try to move but I hurt, I am

filled with aches under m y skin, in m y bones, in m y joints, in

m y muscles, I’m stiff and I’m sore and then m y head’s

separate, it’s very big and there’s a thud in it, a bang, a buzz,

and there’s polka dots in the air, painted on, in the whole vast

room, dancing dots, black and navy blue, and he’s watching

me, I m ove slow ly and finally I am sitting, sitting on the edge

o f the bed, the single bed, sitting, chaste, just sitting, and m y

right leg is split open, the skin on it is split open in two places,

above m y knee and under m y knee, the skin’s torn, there’s big

jagged pieces o f skin, there’s gashes, it’s deep tears, deep cuts,

blood, dried blood and wet blood, m y leg’s torn open in tw o

places, his kisses, his lover’s kisses opened the skin, inside it’s

all angry looking as if it’s turning to a yellow or greenish pus,

it’s running with dirty, angry blood, I think it needs stitches

but I can’t get stitches and I’m scared o f gangrene, old ladies

get it on the street, winos get it when there’s sores, and I go to

wash it at the sink but it hurts too much and I think his water’s

dirty, I’m sure he has dirty water, it looks dirty, and the skin’s

splitting apart more, as if it’s a river running over land, and I

concentrate on getting out, finding m y clothes, putting on m y

clothes, they’re torn and fucked up, and I ask for the keys to

get out and he says something chatty and he smiles, it’s

English but I can’t exactly understand it so I nod or smile in a

neutral w ay and I think I’d better get out and he says see you or

see you again or see you soon, it’s English but it’s hard to

understand, I can’t make out the separate words, and I say

yeah, yeah, o f course, sure, and it doesn’t seem to be enough

so I say I’ll call, it seems better, it’s affirmative, he relaxes, he

smiles, he’s relaxed back into the bed, and I move, slow ly, not

to alarm him, not to stir him, not to call attention to myself, I

try to m ove the w ay they tell you with a book on your head,

smooth and calm and quiet, firm and fast and sure, ladylike,

self-abnegating, to disappear, and I take the keys and I go

down the steps, very slow, it’s hard, the blood from the gashes