SEX: Lillie

When I was a teenager, the idea of my parents having sex disgusted me. But now I see my conception quite differently. I was born not only out of love, but of passion. My parents' passion for each other was born out of their passion for life, and the longing to experience all the power nature through each other. My skin, eyes and fingernails are typing this because desire filled my parents. My body is the gift of their passion. When they die, their bodies will rot and the lusty flesh will give way to brittle bones. But my blood-filled body will remind the world that once they loved and longed. And when I die my children will have the love and longing of all of their ancestors encoded in every membrane.

The well-timed decisions and check-writing of parents who subsidize surrogate-born babies are rational, but they break the chain of love-making. These babies are born not of passion that bubbled up since prehistory, but of a purchased service. Sometimes they are born to married parents who make love to each other, but sometimes they are born to single women, lesbians, or gay men. In any circumstance, their genesis is in commodified technology, not in nature. Not in the heteronormative act.

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posted by Eve at 5:46 PM | link

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