You are going to love the fat, if you love me. I had to learn to love myself in order to be able to make art and survive. Survive like keep living. I had to learn how to love the fat, but I keep changing. So I have to keep re-learning how to love myself
“That’s the ticket price,” my friend told me. I gasped; I was shocked. My good friend was implying that in order to have a relationship with her boyfriend, the price she paid was her freedom. We were talking about her relationship, her plan to relocate 1000 miles away and move in with him. I asked
I know the only time you ever kissed my breasts. That night before your birthday– a safe feeling. A close feeling. This is where you kissed me. I had everything I wanted. You asked, and I said yes. Your mouth on my body was an unfathomable blessing. I’m crying because I remember it. I’m crying
Lately I ask my spouse for breast massage, which is sweet and sexy. I lie back on the bed, and my spouse massages my breasts with oil, moving lymph and bringing blood flow, reaching into my armpits, getting to know the textures of my skin and flesh. We hope it keeps my breasts healthy. Seems
“Last time we had sex, when I was masturbating, I imagined my dick as a flame,” I said. I was lying in bed with my spouse, naked, after sex. “Was it sharp?” my spouse asked. “Not really sharp,” I said. “But it was angular and red. It wasn’t dick-shaped.” It was pointed triangle shaped– a
Here is more erotic art, a few pictures, breasty and alive. shame I was punished as a child for drawing art that was considered inappropriate. It was spoken of in hushed tones. The teacher was so upset. I think that was fourth grade. Wow, the shame got deep. Here I am a full on adult,
The first time I ever came to the land, it was for the summer trans gathering you invited me to, two years ago. I was fortunate to have your help figuring out what was going on. My spouse and I stayed in Temperance. I was confused by the cracking black & white tiles; the floor
I’m sunning on the bank of a river. It’s a glorious day. Red flowers are growing around me. I’m lying on my blanket, listening to birds sing, wind in the trees, and feeling grateful for my body and my life. My breasts, huge tummy, soft thighs, feet, shoulders, strong calves, arms, back, hands, neck, ass,
Dear lost one, I miss when you hugged me hard and made me tea– I felt like I belonged near you. Maybe I belonged somewhere. Those days were kind of brief. I miss when I brought you to the land because I was showing you what was most valuable to me, trying to give that
I want places it’s ok to share erotic art. I’ve thought about making a pay site, but I don’t know how to manage the funds considering I’m disabled on benefits. Likewise I wish for a corn co-op, but my friends don’t seem into it. Not sure I have the energy to manage that from scratch.