Spontaneous healing had occurred, aided by a masculine presence that had the capacity to hold me in a way to allowed the necessary process to unfold.
“Sometimes, when I wake up, I like to send love to each part of my body” he tenderly rumbled in his morning voice. “Do you want to try doing it together?”
I nodded, cuddling closer into his arm, giggling softly.
“We love our hair.” he started.
”We love our hair.” I responded.
“We love our foreheads.”
”We love our foreheads.”
“We love our cheeks.”
”We love our cheeks.”
“We love our eyelashes.”
”We love our eyelashes.”
He worked his way from the top of our bodies to the bottom. Then he turned to me.
“I love your feminine cycles.”
”I love my feminine cycles.”
“I love all your bodily waters.”
”I love all my bodily waters.”
“I love your womb space.”
I choked. Something felt insincere when I tried to repeat the statement.
“I feel some blockage there for some reason…” I whispered, feeling sensitive and vulnerable. ”Let’s send love to your womb space together. And then send love to your mother’s womb space.” He replied quietly.
We met three days after I stopped seeing this guy, and wrote this poem:
…at a festival over a tea ceremony. He is resolute that this day was our first date, though I was unaware.
I feel like our meeting was an answer to my poetic request.
We’ve seen each other every weekend since.
After that morning of sending love to our bodies, I set an intention to address whatever was blocking the flow of energy in my womb space and requested the universe for support and insight into the healing necessary.
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