I want to lay bare upon your bones.
Flesh upon my own.
Feel the ecstasy of your rhythmic breath, it’s licks, it’s pauses.
Enticing the wild call within.
My temple is swollen.
Wet.
You drink her rivers.
Ravaged open by fiery tongue.
Rooted in deep union with you and the ancient songs of formless lovers.
Michelle Roberton ❤️
The inner dialogue of condescending myself as being “ not enough” and other times “ too much” was once a daily theme tune. Whether what was happening was due to
I am noticing today how I used to believe I was meant to suffer. That because of all that had happened, I was innately bad. This kept me in a
We desire for wholeness, as if it is a destination, a misleading idea that one day if we fix ourselves, mend all our broken pieces, we might just get there.
By Signing up, you agree to Terms and Privacy Policy
