The Landscape of a Woman’s Body

I looked at her legs and they reminded me of mountains

I realized that my disgust or aversion was related to my appraisal and desire, as if her body were mine or soon to be mine. but that fell away when I remembered that even if I was a man, her body was not for my pleasure or approval, but for her existence. I looked on her body as a landscape, as a of nature: glory, miracle, creation.

I saw flesh as mountains and i saw her veins as rivers and I thought how incredible the expanse and the strength contained. I thought of the calories, the energy withdrawn from food, and the spending power of that food, to create this body.

Just when I thought it would be impossible to find something more majestic, an incredibly dark woman sat nearby. Skin as dark as midnight, dress darker than midnight—tight and leathery—she sat. She sat with as much firmness and tightness as the landscape woman was supple and expansive. This new princely woman looks nothing short of royalty, her muscles are taut, likes she’s been dancing all her life and will be into the next.

her skin is drawn and her cheek bones are high and as proud as her jaw line and forehead. Her eyes go in different directions and she’s chewing gum in long drawn out gyrations while

She flutters her eyelids open and shut, only two clumps of curls remain on her grey head

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