Sex Magick
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I feel him slide through the tightest spaces of my being. My hips rise to meet him. I gasp his name like it’s part of my breath.
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The way he looks at me like he already owns every secret inside me. The way I lean toward him like I’ve never stopped. We sip wine. We talk. We drift. We remember.
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I pause, lifting my leg slowly and draping it over the back of the couch, exposing the damp silk between my thighs.
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He saw every place I’d been left wanting, every place I had silenced desire out of fear of being too much, or not enough. When he moved, oh gods, when he moved, his body was shadow and fire made flesh.
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The intention of this ritual is to transmute emotional tension into release and renewal through sacred self-touch.
The Osmosis of Flesh 