Home » On the Vulva Taking Up Space (And an Erotic Poem)

Erotic Poetry

On the Vulva Taking Up Space (And an Erotic Poem)

HERE, where I am, You are


I see the way you tense under the light

at the stretch of fabric

over hips.

And I can read in the anxious tugging of your arms —

That you hope that I won’t see.

That I won’t linger too long

Over the ShapE of where we’ll meet.

But I ask you to reconsider.

You See — it looks a lot different from Here,

Where I am.

Where the bend of your waist reveals a tear-shaped drop of God

cupped between your hollows.

Where Your want for me SwellS and Re(aches) out to D(raw) me in,

like the puckering of a kiss, beyond your will.

They may pretend you are featureLESS,


the way you smoothly embrace me to keep my eyes closed.

But I don’t need eyes

to know they lie.

and that the stretch of your arms is meant to cover your details.

Because I k(now) a peAk would reveal the ShapE of you

imprinted on the fabric of your undergarments.

Because I k(now) I can trace the AMAZon’s bends with my finger

over cotton

and feel the milk of it weep dark waters.

Because I k(now) I can anticipate how much of you there is to suck between my lips

by the shadows of MOUNTains under satin.


You have Size.

You have Space.

You take it Up

— and I Take it In.

And when I’ve pulled your layers away,

I see it dusked with blood.

And I want to marvel at the wound,

which was never a wound,

until the tipS of sutureS Sunk into your lipS.

And I want to marvel at the words, Here

that they told you can’t be spoken

written in the transition between smooth and rOugH.

I know you F(h)e(re)AR it,


How Here Hopes with unexpected Constrictions,

a tingling need at the seed of it.

a deep ache for Company.

I know you Fear it, Here,

Where I am.

How it’s a Reactive



For the Things contained

That you do not want to contain anymore.

But Darling,

I ask you to reconsider.

So I might linger on the color of your Edges,

and their butterfly spread.

On the languages

they try to deny you.

On the way your vestibule

is traced by a H(e)art Line.

You See — it looks a lot different from Here,

Where I am.

Where I can see the Whole of You.

So I Hope that you might Hope

That my eyes might stay to linger,

Here, Where I am,

On You.

– M.K. Darcy

You See

So… Uh… Why’d You Write This?

Because I am on a personal quest to reclaim — within my own head — the idea that a woman’s genitals take up Space the same way a man’s do.

Well that’s kind of weird, you may say. Why?

Well, there are a lot of reasons, not least of which is the idea that our capacity to bend and expand and even intentionally design the way we conceptualize things (all things, any things) inside our heads can change our experiences of them. Think of the way you build associations: Crayons are neutral, until their very smell becomes a flashback into childhood scribbling. The sight of a coyote brings thoughts of a Grandfather who had them all over his walls. The taste of glue…

Don’t taste glue.

In this case, the goal is to mentally and emotionally take in the wholeness and fullest nature of an object or person (in this case, the vulva and associated inner bits). The ability to even attempt to take in an object or person’s wholest (pretty sure I’m making up words) nature expands our appreciation of the thing and creates depth in our day-to-day lives by deepening our connection to and understanding of the complexities of objects and parts and people. It’s an exercise of mindfulness that, when applied to intimacy and bodies — well, I’m sure you can imagine.

Imagine using mindfulness in bed? That couldn’t possibly make sex better!

But that is not the only reason, and the other reason lives beyond the bedroom.

Women are told their entire lives — spoken in everything from medical diagrams in textbooks and the colloquial use of “vagina” instead of “vulva”; to film sex scenes and underwear advertisements and comments on porn videos; to the perpetual, daily, fearful hiding of nude bodies — that they do not and cannot and should not take up Space.

Women are told that the parts they were born with must never stretch too far; must always hide between thighs, below hips, and be just the right size and texture; as though they should fold inward somehow, like origami, tuck themselves up to become something beautiful and small — like women are meant to have nothing but their receptacle (or that which takes and consumes) and never the visible parts of them that may breathe the so very desired invitation that, Yes, you may Enter and Share.

It is spoken to the vulva, as it is spoken to a woman’s whole person: do not assert yourself, do not take space for yourself, do not be visible. You are unworthy of these things — and when you do, you will be judged not on any sort of merit you might have, but on your conformity to the impossible.

Yet, these words are lies and that becomes plainly obvious when we’re willing to open ourselves to the idea of Space and the Taking of Space and the Having of Shape being beautiful, erotic, sensual natures of things and beings that exist all around us, all the time.

There is beauty and wholeness and depth and fulfillment sketched in the shape of a woman’s body and in the shape of her vulva, which does take up space, which will stretch outward from its roots, which will not fold itself away because we tell it to become something more “acceptable.”

The vulva grows and changes shape and function at puberty and throughout life, just as a man’s genitalia does, and it should be appreciated and revered for what that growth sprouts.

For the Space it takes.
For the Shape it shows.
For the Invitation, if it is so shared with You.

And that is how this poem was born.

It is my hope that as we evolve and grow as a culture, and as men and women and everyone who identifies beyond those frameworks choose to expand their experiences of intimacy, we will see the erotic, sensual gift written in the Shape of women’s genitalia; and the erotic, sensual gift in the knowledge that She is Tangible and She takes up Space and that Space may be Shared, if She so wishes.

Isn’t that beautiful? Isn’t She?

I think so.

Which is why I wrote this.

Sexy, Sensual, and Space-Taking intimacy to you, my reader.

– M.K. Darcy

You See_pinterest

Yes, I want updates!

No spam guarantee.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *