Poetry describing sacral chakra (feminine, creative, sexuality)
Strangers in line. Lifetimes of waiting and putting others first. So many iterations, his and hers. Hers and his. Knowing eventually, our time would come. Now. My ring, and yours. They told us it was impossible. And we always knew different. It’s just such a fucking awesome moment to experience with you. We were right. …
The net was cast, by our own doing. For someone who has yearned to be heard, seen and known; you and I. You captured me – when I thought I was the seeker. Dropped by green eyes; succumbed to my knees upon our first acquaintance. You offered me your words in tenor. Speechless and breathless. …
I love sensuality. And the endless power behind it. The knowing, calm and focus.Sleepy eyes that know their privilege, purpose and target. I love my body – regardless of state,how it tests my mind and heart. All for me. And that’s exactly why I scare the shit out of most men (and women) As I …
I can’t believe I never knew you. I barely saw you. Always there, my special someone. Layers upon layers, hidden in the dark. Folds and colors when seen in the light. Pleasure. Purpose. Power and fate. Forever to be shared and explored. My birthright.
Respect of the feminine as a celebrated soul mate of the masculine. Capacity and courage to love and connect deeply. Freedom to think, learn and lead; together. Protection without having to ask. Friend, lover, teacher and humorist. You cherish me, and I you.
I’ve spotted you, but I don’t need to touch you. I have already captured you. And my next move is based upon your ensuing response. Afraid? Release. Curious? Inquire. Aroused? Engage. And with that, pray you, we feast.
I will always feel more than most, but I am not unique. I will never know who named me, but I am not nameless. I will always stumble and fall, but I am still standing.
Polar opposites, you and I. One too many. The smoothest of translucent pastels and paints cohabitating, so oddly, with a legion of battled scared amazons. You inhabit the same being, me. Inside out, outside in. Both, all, guardians of my light.
Victim I am not. That’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking how awake you are, to know that you had a choice. A moment in time, if you recall, where you said yes to me, and no to another. Why me? The fact that you’re perplexed with the question concerns me. Round and round we …
Often at night – so loud within – I awaken to your demand to join your tribal dance. I laugh – asking you to let me sleep. Not tonight you say, with a gush and pulse so strong I am now awake. You are safe. Let me show you how much I know and love …
