What do you want, lover?

what-do-you-want-loverWhat do you want, lover?

Tell me. What do you want? Right now. Don’t be shy.  Don’t look away. I’m right here. I’m listening. There’s nothing else I need right now besides you.

You, and the truth.

So, tell me every last thing.  What do you want? Do you want love? Lust? The hard edge of a soft body?

How do you want it? Rough and insistent?  Like a gentle caress? Or again and again, until the heat and sweat and electricity are spent and you drift into a long, slow sleep.

And where? In the depths of secret shadowed corners, or on a patchwork blanket under warm noon sun?

Does it make you uncomfortable that I’m asking you this? Yes? Good. We need discomfort, sometimes, to get to the heat at the core of things.

And it’s that heat we are craving right now. It’s been a long, cold winter. So much has been dormant, both inside and out. The world is awakening. The ground is fertile. The earth moves and breathes and undulates with the energy of things to come.  And here we are, right in the simmering crimson midst of it.

So, what do you want? Say it. Out loud. Even if you never have before. Especially if you never have before. Tell me where your desire lives? What calls your want home to you?  Show me the spaces where you are insatiable? What brings forth that low moan at the base of your throat? What touch makes ancient tremor and shiver rise along your spine? What brings you to your knees?

you-were-not-placed-on-this-earth-to-practice-denial-jeanette-leblanc

Name it lover. The time has come. To feel the weight and heat of it. To let it take shape and form. Feel it spiral deep inside you. Feel it gather force and radiate outwards. Hold the power of it, feel its mighty urgency, welcome its holy heat.

Are you afraid to speak it? Why? Has someone told you that this is not to be spoken of? That you mustn’t give it a voice. That you certainty can’t ask for it. Good girls don’t do that.

That ends now. Right here. Not for a second longer. This is a lie that has never served to do anything but keep you small and complacent.

And you are anything but small.

So shed the shame of your sex, goddess. It’s not yours to hold. It never was.

Your desire is here to teach you. It awaits a response. You were born to answer its call.

So, ask for what you need, lover. Take what you want. You were not placed on this earth to practice denial. Your pleasure? It’s what the universe demands.

Anything less is blasphemy.

“So, ask for what you need, lover. Take what you want. You were not placed on this earth to practice denial. Your pleasure? It’s what the universe demands. Anything less is blasphemy.”

Don’t look down. There is no shame here. No shyness. Only the bold of speaking your truth. So raise your face. Open your eyes. Meet my gaze. Part your lips. Breathe deep. Repeat after me.

I am a sacred body of want. I am soft tissue, hard joint, hallowed skin. I am a consecrated vessel of desire. My body is the answer to the questions of the cosmos. I was born for this. I am holy in my insatiable need. I am holy in my animal submission. I am holy in my fiery control.

There is no bargain to be made between wholeness and goodness. Between desire and divinity. You need not choose. They are the very same thing. They have always been.

So tell me what you want.  I am listening.

tell-me-what-you-want-by-jeanette-leblanc

{this post was originally published in the Spring Issue of Amulet Magazine}

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I swear like a sailor, I've been called a word-witch (more than once), I believe whole-heartedly in the power of your voice,  and think words are as necessary as air. I work with humans who are seeking permission to stop seeking permission and offer programs that will get living and writing on your own terms (for reals). 


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