This is my edge.
All the clothes on.
All the doors closed.
I do no see my sensual self here.
Despite what others tell me.
Something wiser in me weeps.
‘See yourself as sensual,’ she whispers. ‘Everywhere.’
Don’t blind yourself
to that feeling
From her great Fire of Feminine Truth
She grabs ash;
the ash of my no-longer-useful perspective
(it has burned without my knowing it).
The Magical Mom Spit that cures all
She purses her lips and pushes it into her palm.
Applying the salve to my eyes.
I push against it.
Open those eyes.
This is the edge.
I want to see myself as sensual- at all levels, in all ways.
My eyes, like caterpillars,
are dissolved, and reborn.
Wet-winged butterflies they are.
Today, this picture, I finally saw myself as sensual with clothes on.
I hold the tender wings of that gaze, that feeling – that 3 seconds –
and let it settle into my skin, a soul-salve.
this flying will become natural.
– – – – – – – – – – – –
Sensuality is different for each person.
So is where and how we feel sensual.
For me, it is much easier to feel and be sensual when my clothes are off.
(Naked, as it were. Ahem.)
It is much more difficult for me to believe I am sensual when I am doing my everyday stuff.
But I am learning.
This is my edge of sensuality.
And I want to push past it.
Because I know now, just in these few days with this picture,
with these fragile moments of feeling both sensual and ‘daily,’
that I can be.
That I am sensual.
No matter what.