Nakedness Is a Mirror

A naked woman is a mirror. What you see in her is yourself—your fears, your conditioning, your discomfort. And that discomfort will tell you where you are on the map. Because we are not intimate with nakedness, with the pure expression of Eros. 

We are intimate with performance, with the idea of sexuality that exists to serve and deflect, not be inhabited and experienced. So when confronted with true nakedness, true Eros—unmasked, still, raw—it is mistaken for coercion.

And when the mirror is turned back, when the question is asked,
”What must you believe about women to believe this?”
The response isn’t reflection. It’s collapse.

The Buddha had a better suggestion: Rather than trying to cover the earth in leather, put on some leather shoes.

We are taught that power is what we can see and control—status, dominance, performance.
That it is Power over and that power is asserted. If power isn’t moving,
then what is it?

But Eros does not command, it magnetizes.
Eros does not force, it reveals. Its power is not in status or control but in presence—the quiet, invisible current that shifts the space around it. 

If you are looking for power as affect, you will miss it entirely.
True power does not need to wield itself.
It moves through, the unseen force that moves the world without moving itself.