Online dating haiku





Tinder, you devil

How you make or break my days

Maybe the next one…


Sweet tears, sacred love

One 2812341774_c7095a7c6e_mmoment, our lips explore each other with delightful wonder. The three of us are playing, expanding, discovering new landscapes, greeting our edges gently and compassionately.

And then, sweet tears, sacred love. I see you. I hold you. I love you. Never before have I received such a precious gift, such vulnerable beauty. I am lying supine beneath you, and our faces are so close, the crystal water spills from your eyes and onto my face, into my own eyes. We are tear sisters, fluid bonded in a way I have never conceived of prior to this.

We gently lay you down, cradle you, receive you, hold space. There is nothing to fix, nothing to change, all is perfect.

Thank you, beautiful soul, for your divine gifts.


3 dimensions of compersion

Based on my personal experience, I would like to propose a 3-faceted model in which we may experience compersion. I’d love your feedback.

  1. compersion venn diagramIntellectual. I know in my mind that I want you to be happy. In that sense I am indeed happy for you in your other relationship/experience. In order to arrive at this, I need to reason/talk myself through what comes up for me. I might be feeling some jealousy, but I know in my heart of hearts that I want you to feel joy, even if it does not involve me.
  2. Somatic. The moment I see that smile on your face, or hear you speak to or about a joyful experience, I feel happiness in my body, such as my heart or stomach. I smile instantly.
  3. Erotic. When I see or think of you with your other lover, particularly in intimate scenarios, I feel aroused. Sometimes I feel closer to you through this feeling in me.

Today’s inkblot: gang bang or sacred play?

olivier-valsecchi ink blot
Photo by Olivier Valsecchi

I have just had a black leather blindfold gently placed over my eyes. I am told to stand up and bend forward. Strong muscles under warm soft skin wrap around my torso and I am lifted into a fireman’s carry over the shoulder of a man who has never before experienced my touch. I am carried with ease up a flight of stairs. Foot steps follow us.

My feet brush across a doorway frame, we are in a room. More hands reach for me, as I am carefully lowered into a pair of straps mounted to a ceiling. Whispers help guide me into a swing. It’s my first time in a sex swing.

All of my lovers go silent. Hands gently cradle my head so I can completely sink into my surroundings. I inhale, find that place in my heart of trust, relax my body as I exhale, and prepare to offer the ultimate gift of total surrender of my body over to the care of my lovers. The gift, is to myself.

For the next two hours, I experience a flow unlike anything I have ever known. Several lovers (including one friend I have never been intimate with) are here to worship me, take me, over and over, without ever making a sound. I let go of any curiosity as to who is inside of me, who has just thrust themselves into my eager mouth, who is at my neck, my breasts. I am the only one making noise, and my moans erupt freely, pulsing in parallel to the pleasure I am swimming in.

With salience, I remember this feeling inside me. As if crossing through a portal, I have completely returned to erotic innocence. I hope that you, the reader, have a youthful memory that involves the compassionate curiosity of our earliest experiences of sexuality. If you are so blessed, you will remember it when you find it again as I did. A moment where you know you are so safe, so loved, so held, that you can say ‘no’ or make a request with no fear of trauma or judgement. And your lovers can receive that ‘no’ without ever taking it personally or projecting any meaning. All our memories of woundedness melt away, and we are simply present, curious, and playful.

This was my birthday wish. To shed a layer of shame, the internalized oppression of self judgement – slut, dirty, cheap – that comes with growing up in a world where my sex and my sexuality is feared, judged, and objectified. I created a scenario to challenge those beliefs to the core. Like ophidiophobia (fear of snakes), I chose graded exposure to face my fears. And lovers, you obliged.

Garter snakes mating

I feel so much bliss right now, so much love, so blessed. I am awake and aroused. Pleasure is safe, pleasure is beautiful, pleasure is a divine gift. Thank you for this ultimate birthday present: sexual healing.


Degrees of sexparation

Photo credit – Daniel Walker

I just found out today while listening to a podcast that I’ve been intimate with someone who has been intimate with Nina Hartley. Now  I’ve never played the Kevin Bacon game, and I’m certainly not what some friends call a “star f&#!@er”, but this kind of titillated me. I’m two degrees of sexparation from a porn star!


Nina Hartley

For those of you who don’t know, Nina Hartley is a remarkable human being. Not only has she been making porn for longer than anyone in the history of making porn (over 30 years!), she is also an activist and educator. She has devoted her life and career to making pleasure healthy and safe for people. Have you heard her speak? Incredibly inspiring. Check out her podcasts with Sex Nerd Sandra here and here, and with Sex with Emily here

I’ve never been very interested in mapping out my polycule (see KIMCHI cuddles), but I have to not-so-secretly admit that today’s surprise was kind of fun.

Thank you for everything you have done for the world, Nina!

Journeying with the beloved (“Moon Boots”)

I want to walk through a kaleidoscope like a butterfly
Through primordial portals, you and I
Where slowly time and space merge,
Pastoral fractals emerge, memories scatter then purge

Dysmorphic figures sinking into warm sheets
Your trunk and limbs envelope me, your heart beats
Your whispers, moist breath on the nape of my neck
And I am melting into ecstatic

Bliss, this kiss, I sense lingering like dew drops
From your lips, left on the tips
Of each fine hair descending down my spine
While one hand gently caresses my jaw line

Irridescent strands of silk once woven across times
Dissolve now, she momentarily frees us from these lines
Now lives, over and over,
Suddenly and clearly intertwined

Phantasmagoric allegory,
Dew drops gather into waterfalls pouring
Crystalline visions, story after story

We surrender to a rhythm of love making
As these visions dance across generations and genus
Living light radiates like bioluminescence within us
“Gentle”, says the medicine, “you are only beginners”

So back through the looking glass, this magic carpet ride
Floats us home to safety, you and I
As journeying and dream time softly collide
And the kaleidoscope ran away with the butterfly

photo credit

Horizontal hostility: sex negativity wars

2991767301_a2a4eaccf0_nWhen we apply…unfair judgments to other people who are like us, when we see our friends as too slutty or too free, this is called horizontal hostility” ~The Ethical Slut

The words come out of my mouth so quickly and sharply, with a smile and nonchalance, yet a faint and  pointedly ugly undertone of disgust.

“So, are you going to fuck her too?”

“Hunting again I see”

“Wow, I’m surprised you didn’t get her phone number. What’s wrong?”

Passive aggressive is an art form I have mastered. Not because I chose it. It chose me. In fact, it seems to have an entire nation in a choke hold.

Born and raised in a culture brimming with judgement, fear, resentment, jealousy, moral codes, and scarcity. And above all, righteousness. If I am good enough, I’ll go to heaven. If I am good enough, I will be loved. And what is good enough? Well it’s quite clear, it’s everywhere. Billboards, TV ads, media, church, parents, text books, teachers, well-meaning strangers – they all know the truth, and they deliver the message with such conviction. Such passive aggressive brilliance. I am that.

I spend all my days diligently tearing apart these beliefs, balming these deeply ingrained wounds from our ancestors, our contemporaries, our childhood. Learning how to speak and listen from a compassionate place of acceptance and forgiveness. Yet there they are at the surface, simmering, lying in wait for the next attack. I don’t need to put any effort or energy towards them at all, they have a consciousness all their own. In perpetual tantrum, they seethe and quietly calculate in the background, looking outwards for signs of “it’s not fair”. If I can’t be sexual, then no one should be. If I can’t express myself freely, neither should you. If I can’t (fill in the blank), sure as hell buddy I better not see you (filling in the blank).

Tragically, every one of those “can’t” statements is a belief I have internalized, allowing myself to be disempowered by everyone and everything.

Giving temporary yet false satisfaction in a vastly unjust world, out they come. Deliberate, active, carefully veiled hostile acts. I am judging you. I am judging you harshly, for doing the very things I wish I could do. I feel so small for this, and in that smallness, I kick it up a notch and lay it on even thicker. If I really speak from that place of righteousness, then maybe, just maybe, you will feel as small and dark and lonely as I do.


Horizontal hostility occurs when members of a targeted group believe, act on, or enforce the dominant system of discrimination and oppression.


Attraction: beyond a binary sex paradigm

magnet“I’m attracted to you” he says, as he looks deeply into my eyes with that tell-tale expression.

My heart sinks, disappointment fills me.

It’s not what you think. I actually find you quite intriguing. I am energized and happy in your presence. I like you!

But you just did THAT thing. You just limited the possibilities to one outcome. Sex.

I know it’s not your fault. In our dichotomous cultural conditioning, the moment we realize we have an affinity for someone, two souls coming together in resonance, we start to shape it, mould it, force it. And we do so in the only way we know how. We are taught that sex is the ultimate expression of this state of connectedness.

Do not make the mistake of assuming this is sex negative (though I recognize this is also part of our cultural conditioning that might be messing things up even more).

I hadn’t ruled sex out yet for you and I. Until you said that.

By using the “A” word, we just ruled out all the other possibilities. In my heart, it’s ruined. Now I want to create space from you. What about the friendship? The laughter? The intellectual? The dancing? The massive spectrum of ways in which people can engage with each other? What if we’re meant to heal the wounded child, or parent, in each other?

Please don’t force me into a corner. I want possibility with you, I want to practice flow with you, presence, innocent curiosity. And maybe even sex! But let’s start with the heart, and let the rest emerge in its natural due course.

“I have an affinity for you”. “I feel resonance with you”. “I love you”. “I feel excited to spend time with you”. “I enjoy adventuring with you”. There are so many ways we can express a state of connectedness and intrigue. Please give me this. Let me have this. With you. Let’s stretch our imaginations, tap in to the flow, and see just how many ways we can express love. I promise the sex will be so much better if we do.