This is sex—not the act, but the current. Not the performance, but the real. It’s trembling, tears, the release of control.

Being satisfied means we’re full and don’t need more. But the feeling of gratification is when we’re having and wanting simultaneously.

When we fully realize who we are, we can bring erotic order to the world.

There comes a moment in every woman’s path when the power begins to turn on.

We rest in Eros as we receive the awareness of the abundance. Eros asks only that we receive and acknowledge. To sit and allow ourselves to be touched and moved, even melted by our own lives.

You can meditate for thirty years and never find the part of you that surfaces in one night with a consort who knows what she’s doing.

The erotic opens in dimensions and so all of the selves can express concurrently.

That sweet spot is delicate. It’s where we can still choose. Where we feel the stretch between presence and pull.

Often we do not say the hungers and desires we have or the expressions of love and even helplessness we feel in another’s presence.

She offers no rules, no hierarchy—only frequencies you must meet. Not because she withholds, but because intimacy has requirements. You must arrive not with credentials, but with truth.

The thing that is missing is arousal.