Men fall asleep immediately after orgasm. Women wake up. It’s curious, that off-rhythm. Perhaps, after the exhaustion of trying to impregnate us, they need their rest. It’s our job to get back up on our feet, sweep the cave, tuck the children into their bed of rushes, nitpick their head lice, tell them stories that someday they will tell their own children: about fire, stone wheels, a cave dripping with stalactites—luminous color, frozen in time; the boy who chased a great bird through the sky; how to cross the open sea.
