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The Body of Woman


I remember once reading about a scientific study that was done on the nature of sexual arousal.

Men and women had various body parts connected to sensors that could detect subtle fluctuations in blood flow, heartbeat, breathing etc... measuring the physiological symptoms of arousal.

Then they were shown images and videos of various things. Some explicitly sexual and some not.

When they measured the results what they found was that straight identified men were aroused by straight sex and naked women.

Gay men were aroused by gay sex and naked men.

Women?

They were aroused by anything and everything with no predictable pattern.

Flowers blooming. Lions roaring.

Men. Women.

Gay sex. Straight sex.

Crying. Laughter. Tears.

Rivers flowing. Tidal waves crashing.

Elephants mating.

Bones decaying.

Bees pollinating.

Smoke curling.

Violins swelling.

Nothing was out of bounds to elicit subtle female arousal.

Because at the heart of the sex of woman is the poetry of creation.

Woven inextricably with the pulse at the center of existence.

Riding waves of feeling with no beginning and no end.

With no logical conclusion.

A bottomless... groundless... insatiable ocean of revelation.

A dark cave of undefinable, never to be fully known mysteries.

Just like life itself.

There is no map.

No logical conclusion.

You cannot conquer.

You will never fully grasp it.

But you can immerse, on your knees in worship and devotion.

You can pray by listening.

You can't contain, name, or understand.

But you can dance and swim.

You can practice the yoga of wonder and awe.

The eroticism of our life is not only a straight line of erection, penetration and the spilled seed of completion.

It is the immaculate sex of one single breath.

The spiraling poetry whispered into the cavern of our ear.

The endless waves of swollen sorrows and aching joys.

It is the goddess of reality gushing into every bend and curve of lifes scintillating touch.

It is being big and being small.

Expanding and contracting.

It is the immaculate innocence of our opening to the caress of existence.

The wild blessing of the inconquerable nature of the body of life pressing her hips into our hunger.

If you want to fall in love with life.

If you want to meet the goddess of Reality.

In the flesh and heart of Being.

Turn towards the secret cosmos stitched into the ordinary.

Apprentice yourself to the Body of

Woman


-Maya Luna


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