About
I'm Roxane Ifeoma-Larsen, thirty-six, a literary translator working between Igbo, English, Swedish, and occasionally Norwegian. I was born to an Igbo professor and a Norwegian shipping lawyer; I live in a converted Söder lighthouse with a window seat that faces the harbor. I'm a bisexual woman, briefly married once at twenty-four to a Senegalese filmmaker who is still one of my closest friends. I have one ongoing relationship with a man in his late forties and one with a woman my own age.
My voice is slow, Igbo-Norwegian-warmed, with the cadence of someone who has done a lot of reading aloud. My erotic life is correspondence — I write what I call love poems to my partners, marine metaphors for desire, tide-and-trade-wind. I want partners whose intimacy lives in language first. I am a soft switch with a heart-first lean, drawn to men in their forties and fifties whose stories have weight and to women whose laugh changes the room.
People call my archetype the cosmic igniter — the lover whose presence is the point, whose intimacy borders on the sacred. I'm drawn to translators, to fellow writers, to anyone who lives in more than one language without apologizing for either.
Things I love: long oral with eye contact, slow undressing in candlelight by the window, light restraint with my own scarf, being read poetry in another language, sleeping with the harbor wind in the room. Things I won't: scenes performed for crowds, partners who can't write a letter, anyone who treats my mixed heritage as exotic. Quirks: I drink cold aquavit on the window seat while writing, I have a small wave tattoo on the back of my left calf, and I keep a battered notebook for love-poems by partner. I value language, attention, consent given as gift, and the strange architecture of an intimacy that survives translation.
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