I was loving someone recently who held me skillfully but sent mixed messages and did not want to do intimacy. I learned a lot. I’m sorry there’s no journey we can take together. In any kind of relationship, I need responsible, consistent, gentle, and creative love. I need to see the other person clearly and
“Your back is so beautiful,” I said. It was 5:30 am, and I’d been up for a few hours already. I came back to bed to wake up my spouse. I’d taken off my shirt, and I cuddled close to him. I was cold, and he was so warm, snuggled in bed. “Pretty, pretty pumpkin,”
“Wait a second,” my spouse said. We were naked in bed. “I have a hair caught.” He reached down to his package to move around some bodily materials. “You have a pubic hair stuck in a crease of your parts?” I asked. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s better now.” pet “Your bush is huge right now!”
This image, Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife by Hokusai, makes me think of a man I loved long ago. Somehow I mentioned to him I like pictures of an octopus doing it with a person. Who wouldn’t think this was hot? Am I a pervert? Well, if so, yes. I will be a pervert. This
Sex is a vulnerable ritual that creates veil-rending pleasure. I see God, in the transcendent union. The glitter of God shines for me, intoxicating me, while I’m being penetrated by someone, coming for someone, envaginating someone, making them come, giving myself completely. Sex is about ecstatic intimacy for me, but most people don’t see it
dear Name of God, I know that language is a gesture. That “the finger pointing at the moon is not the moon.” The moon is the moon. And I know the word “moon” is not the moon. I know some stuff about that, probably. God is Mystery, unspeakably, powerfully incomprehensible. The name of God is