Permission Granted: Pleasure-Body
“You cannot write about your pleasure-body, are you crazy?!” my inner critic’s voice booms
Yes, I can. Yes, I will. Yes, I am.
I delight in the reunion with my pleasure-body.
I open my self, my soul, my female animal body to greater pleasure, to more power, to ecstatic dancing play.
I dance with bouncing breasts,
I open my legs to feel the pleasure of movement,
I dare to enjoy the delight of my human body-mind,
I embrace the tragedy of media manufactured ideals of Feminine Beauty.
I feel waves of freedom and fear crash into me
Every breath an experience of living and dying.
I dance with the adversity and ecstasy of my life as a Woman.
Pleasure rising, emptiness following.
The rush of living, the fear of dying.
I feel the shame that arises in my feminine pleasure,
I acknowledge the walls constructed for protection.
I wonder… who I am trying to protect?
Protecting me from unwanted attention and experience?
Protecting the world from seeing my delight?
My pleasure demands liberation,
My body wants to let her juices flow,
My breasts want to freely show their shape and form.
My nipples long to announce turn on, boldly, bravely, YES!
Why are turned on women so dangerous? So forbidden?
I am turned on & lit up.
I am the embodiment of creative delight.
I bloom, I tantalize, I express, I tease, I pleasure, I receive.
Yes, so much YES!
I am the dance of creation and destruction.
I am pleasure, power, pulsing, play, BLOOMING like the most delicious flower in springtime.
My willingness to surrender opens the floodgates to enjoy the delights of my pleasure-body.
How fully can I give myself to the pleasure of my body?
How gracefully can I surrender to the unknown of letting go?