‘Let’s try yoni meditation,’ she said. It turned out to be nothing like what I was expecting that day, nor since.
Yoni: such an appealing Sanscrit word. But its male counterpart, lingam, holds no appeal for me. Earlier she had drawn out of me that I really wanted us to use that guttural word ‘cock’. Oh how I felt liberated to be a man, quite proud of my cock. ‘OK,’ she said, ‘we’ll use cock.’ And she supervised his growth with every belly breath and pelvic muscle contraction.
What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet…
Contemplating yoni now I am imagining a rose in time-lapse photography. See how it’s petals open to reveal a pink heart?
Other names:
pussy – the lovers’ favourite,
kitty – why this fixation on cats?
pudenda – rather Victorian?
cunt – vulgar slang – NO, yet, in his finest moment, the place cock wants to bury his seed.
I have just paused to watch Zen Pussy meditation – a meditation on eleven vulvas. My reflections in eleven words as they occurred to me:
breathing,
beckoning,
winking,
sighing,
parting,
glistening,
crying,
chuckling,
dribbling,
panting,
enjoying,
…cumming.
I felt somewhat awkward at first but my courage grew as she offered different perspectives on yoni. ‘All fours?’ she suggested. Oh, yes please. I was instantly mesmerised by yoni’s closest neighbour, anus. Passionate pink meets earthy ebony.
‘Come nearer; I’ll open her lips for you. Look closely; smell yoni’.
A yoni that is securely connected to her heart.
A yoni that prefers to be without hair.
A yoni that has conceived and delivered beautiful, much-loved babies.
A yoni that confessed to me ‘I just love men’.
A yoni that opens to reveal the moist, pink portal to life.
An intoxicating yoni.
