Dexterous in their palpation
And reverent in their caress,
Sculpt my breasts
Into sweet luminous mounds
Of warm Venus-kissed flesh.
When once they were hidden stones,
They have become a secret garden
Of transcendent writhing
And abundant plenty,
Connected by hand, heart, spirit and loin.
*** This poem was inspired by a wonderfully written post on breast massage and self-love by The Empress Hexe and The Emperor, one of my favourite bloggers (or set of bloggers…). I absolutely love their spiritual approach to the kinkier aspects of sex and sexuality. Their reverence for the body, for sexual pleasure and pain, for spiritual connection is very refreshing in a profane world often void of the sacred. ***