A poem.
Reaching for desire,
Acting on impulse,
Lacking any filter that may question her longing.
She sees what she wants and she goes towards it.
An object
A sound
A light
A person
Her discernment is in her desire.
Not In her thoughts
Of is this ok to want this.
Pure
Simple
Instinctual navigation.
When did I lose this in myself?
And need to spend years as an adult re-finding my natural impulses?
Re-membering how trustworthy my primal impulses are.
When was I told that thought needed to be valued over following the stream of delight and longing?
When did my instinctual preferences get muddled by shoulds and shouldn’ts?
And that an external authority deemed to know more than me?
Her whole world is one ongoing sensual exploration.
As she gets to discover what feels good,
What tastes good,
And what doesn’t.
Something catches her eyes,
Her focus is clear,
And her body locomotes to that thing.
A streaming undulatory coordination.
Not crawling yet,
Her determination helps her scoot her way to the object of affection in her view.
Reaching and grasping
She pulls the object to her mouth.
This heightened location of sensational information.
Her mouth and tongue intimately lick, suck and bite.
As she learns this new world called Earth
all over again. ❤️
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