a treatise of touch

come here.
come closer.
feel my breath?

do not
look away
right now you are

right now
i am
lifting hair
from neck
running my finger
gently there.  across
the line of
down curve of rib
concave of waist
coming to rest on
the hard of hip.

revel, now
in the shiver that
along your spine

it means you are awake.

stay awake , lover
because this is
a treatise of touch

bless your righteous bodybless it’s ancient hungerbless it’s sacred needbless the magnet pullthe utter madnessof wantand the selfish hauntingof desire

{image via unsplash}

this is
a dedication to
the divinity
of want
this is an ode
to the fierce hunger of
animal skin
so bless your righteous body
bless it’s ancient hunger
bless it’s sacred need
bless the magnet pull
the utter madness
of want
and the selfish haunting
of desire

right here
on electric hipbone
right here
on staircase spine
here on nape of neck
on hollow of throat
on line and curve
on slick and sweat
here in the space where
body meets body
where want answers want
where primal, exalted lust
to your

we all
pray best
on our knees

so let us pray

sanctify the body holy
the wicked desire
the backroom covenants of flesh
the slow slide of acquiesce
the hallowed space of want
the heavy shudder of yes
the burn of craving
the bliss of the fire.

find now
the center of your
meet it where it lives
coax the tender tremor
tease response from
edge to depth to surface
to bone
to salt
to sweat
to skin
to teeth
to yes
to this

this is the
consecrated profanity of
this is the space where
shame is shed
you are a vessel of want

you are a master of desire
you are the fierce of supplication
the gentle of domination
you are holy
you are holy

you are holy

ask for what you need, lover
take what you want
bring it home
refuse the disgrace
with which you were raised
claim your untamable
unbind your wild
petition the air for your
every desire

this body is not the enemy

Image © chanelle sinclair

this body is not the enemy
your sex is not a scandal
your skin needs no censor
you are not here for denial
your pleasure is
what the universe
it is the purpose
of your
anything else

so tattoo want along your rib
name it religion and church
and the rite of communion
take the body and the blood
sprinkle it with holy water
let the salt steam rise

and listen
just listen, lover
our bodies tell us


The poem:
The soundtrack:

Treatise of touch: the official playlist for shedding shame and owning desire}

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