We love our Sunday mornings the most. Sunday mornings, we wake up slowly- it’s the filler after the full day before- the night out, the frenzied activity of social life. It is our day of rest. Through the weeks, we work on the firmament, the infrastructure of our lives, life by design; the firmament, the seas, tend to the flock and the pride, then Saturday we tend to the needs of the humanity around us, to the people in our lives that we have chosen. Sunday is our day of rest.
We rise like the sun; slowly, brightening in minute increments of light and consciousness; twilight, dawn, then a glorious sunrise. We are in tune with the movements of the Earth on these mornings, like Druidic monuments and pyramidic calendars; religions wrought from the cycle of the relationship of the earth and the sun. We sleep in as long as our sleep will coast, the open our eyes and lay in the silence of the room as the daylight grows. And as our bodies wake, we find them wanting and we follow the hunger and thirst of our desires upon each other. While the church bells are calling the faithful and pealing out celebration- so many churches within hearing distance of the house, we perform our own rituals, begotten, not made. I perform my yoni puja and she evokes the god in me and praises me. The bells are music in the distance, their music as ancient as the bronze they are made of. We are celebrants, worshipping each others bodies in the openness of a new day and a new week.
She calls me a god. When she says this, I do feel a glow from my flaming sacred heart, I feel the gravity of my halo surrounding the crown of my head. I feel the full brunt of my phallic power, in control of the elements of my body and its primal, natural urges. I rein in oceans of power, aggression, anger, love, joy and it brews within my body with ecstacy. Wave upon wave, I hold back tsunamic forces, the crush of continents and the push and pull of planets and stars. I hold it all back, simply breathing and letting the winds of my respiration be all that I concentrate on. Breath is the source of all life and I am its Master.
She is the source of my power; my goddess. She proclaims my divinity and it is through her that I acquire all my might, for her that I perform my works. Together, we are the force of the universe, all that is dark and all that is luminous and our act is the creation of all these things. I open my eyes and look down upon her and I see the most beautiful things in life and how beautiful life truly is. We look into each others eyes and its like looking across infinity.
She had told me once that having simultaneous orgasms are called by the native people; “meeting in the south”. If you meet on any other point of the compass, you are missing your trajectory, but in the south, you collide and it is the penultimate union of man and women and it has a million karmic rewards.. She calls out, cries out and arches her back, the power rising from plateau to plateau, then is seized by her cresting ecstasy and let go of my volcanic control, pouring my whole being into her. It is like the collision of galaxies, spectacular and far-reaching, explosions of huge energies expanding into the universe. I spill out into her for what seems like forever until I am made feeble; human once again.
Emptied of my orgasm, the muscles in my core are now settled, like water in a pool. I feel clean. This is how I feel I should always feel. This is equilibrium. This is where gravity takes me, where i am in a state of rest. I fall, and I want to land here, in this place, in this position, feeling just this.
“Mmmm...” you sigh. It’s the easiest thing in the world to say. Mmm... Mouth closed, no muscles need to move. You just inhale, then exhale and let your voice hum inside you. No wonder it’s what we say when we are in ecstasy, when we are delighted.
This is heaven. I am so in love with her on these mornings. I put my arms around her. This is the answer to all my prayers. Laying in bed with her, as she rolls onto me to put her head on my chest, psalms of thanksgiving and praise fill my head.. My arms around her are my highest attainment. She nuzzles closer to me. This is heaven. Our bedroom, early on a Sunday morning. This is where I want to be forever. Here, feeling like this, forever. There is nothing wrong here- it is immaculate, this space and this time. I want to live like this for eternity.
