Tonight while deciding what I should place in the frames that will eventually hang graciously from my bathroom walls, I couldn’t help my mind from going back to this one idea that continued to flash furiously through my mind.
Flesh. Curves. Long, draping, beautiful hair. Affectionate, adoring, passionate and warm. I want my bathroom to be the one place in my house where the images on the walls are those that are soft and truly represent the sense of a woman’s touch.
A breast. A palm. A cheek, or lips that brush softly and tenderly over those of another. Curves in places they were intended, white, plump and rosy flesh that appears porcelain to touch.
I want love in my bathroom. Love of women and the love of ones self. I want the walls of my bathroom to engulf the desperate feeling of love, disregard the concept of judgement and bathe in the glory that is the ever confusing but eternally beautiful soul of the woman spirit.
To be desperately hopeless and bursting with love is one of the most genuine and alluring qualities we may ever possess. To never lose that is the greatest gift of all.
x
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