Me Time

I am not sleeping.

I am relaxing.
For this all that is to come, requires relaxation and calm.

This is me just before I begin to enter myself.
This is my pre me-time face.
My do not disturb face.
My I am so calm and serene because I am about to get it on face.
This is the face I make in anticipation of the deep connection I am about to create with myself face. It is my listening face.
My feeling face.
My, all. Of. me. Is. here. Face.
It is my face that gives zero twigs what you think about me and mine face.
My precisely because it is all mine face.
This is my face that has no shame face.
My face that sees no taboo face.
My face that is enlightened with the knowledge of myself face.
My deep, deep self face.

My wonderfully wonderful self face. Myself, self face.
It is my all for me and none for you face.
This is the face that tells you that. Face.
It is my mmmm this woman is about to get it on face. Her move on face.
Her jive on face.

Her ride on face.
It is my I have absolutely no apologies face.

I will never apologise for that moment that I spread my legs and looked.

I looked and I looked and I looked at this face that had been a part of me my whole life, but that I had never stopped to see.

I had cleaned. I had scrubbed. I had powdered.

I had ignored. I had squeezed out into an oblivion.

I had blocked.

I had masked.

I had hidden and hidden from. My face.

For she is a face of mine.

A piece of mine.

A mine of mine.

She is mine.

The lady between my legs.

That throbs and melts and oozes out drips and drops of love and squeezes out ounces and ounces of pain and throws out miles and miles of all that is insane with the world.

She is my hidden face. My shamed face. My unloved face. My could not show face. My shushed face. My quietened face. My invisible face.

My face between my legs.

Face. My face.

It is not my face I came to speak of today.

I came to tell you of all that is to come.

And all that is to come is me.

I am to come.

I am to be.

Open and luscious and free.

From all ills and all weight and all baggage and all the repression of myself and me.

I am coming to be.

Coming to see me and feel me and love me and hold me and caress me into oblivion ... or not.

Or not.

Because maybe, just maybe today will be all about feeling and hearing and listening to the voice that is so soft and so unsure of itself because it has never been free to speak.

Perhaps my touch today will not cause waves or bursts of anything.

Perhaps today I won’t touch, but I will feel. I won’t look, but I will see.

I won’t listen, but I will hear.

Because I will enter deep within myself and experience the very part of my being that has recently been resurrected by the very nature of freedom of thought and the very rejection of the idea that to know myself is to sin against God.

The idea that I should only know myself in the context of another human being.

The idea that I am not free to be open from head to toe, all inclusive, skipping nothing even the thing that leads to knowledge of me.

For that is what this is all about.

Knowing myself.

Loving myself.

My whole self and not just the parts that have been publicly approved.

I approve of myself.
That is what you see.
A woman that approves of herself.

She is calm and relaxed Because she is about to love herself

And love requires intention.

A full presence Of the mind With the body and the soul

For in love

They all become one.