I would imagine being tied up and put in a haystack while someone put the dry, stale straw ablaze. I would picture it perfectly while rocking on my hand. The daydream was about struggling to get free while the fire burned hotter and closer. I am not sure if I came when the fire reached me or after I had imagined escaping it. But I came. I orgasmed on my hand to the dream of fire.

Dorothy Allison

Dorothy Allison

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Teenagers are free verse walking around on two legs.

— Dorothy Allison

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She blushed. I love it when women blush, especially those big butch girls who know you want them. And I wanted her. I did. I wanted her. But she was a difficult woman, wouldnâ€™t let me give her a backrub, read her palm, or sew up the tear in her jeansâ€”all those ritual techniques Southern femmes have employed in the seduction of innocent butch girls.

— Dorothy Allison

Yes, somewhere inside me there is a child always eleven years old, a girlchild who holds the world responsible for all the things that terrify and call to me. But inside me too is the teenager who armed herself and fought back, the dyke who did what she had to, the woman who learned to love without giving in to fear.

— Dorothy Allison

Take me like a turtle whose shell must be cracked, whose heart is ice, who needs your heat. Love me like a warrior, sweat up to your earlobes and all your hope between your teeth. Love me so I know I am at least as important as anything you have ever wanted.

— Dorothy Allison

I say, â€œTalk to me. Tell me who you are, what you want, what youâ€™ve never had, the story youâ€™ve always been afraid to tell.

— Dorothy Allison