The Sensuality of a Mother

She rises in the hush of evening, when the house sighs beneath the weight of the day, when the floorboards soften, and her name is no longer being called by small voices or by the long arms of responsibility, and she begins to stretch back into herself.

She is a warm-blooded altar of intuition, of sensual knowing. Her body, stretched and reshaped by love and labour, remains a map of pleasure, a garden of sensation, a land where the petals of desire still bloom with the same fierce beauty that once invited life into being.

She carries the scent of milk and musk, the echo of lullabies sung with a throat raw from feeling too much, the memory of hands that have held, fed, lifted, soothed, and still crave the quiet shock of being held in return

In the soft sway of her hips across the kitchen floor after the last dish is washed and the moonlight begins to listen, she is a dance passed down through blood and bone, a movement that belongs only to her and the mystery that moves within her.

She carries mother as an expansion, a widening of capacity, a deepening of love’s texture, a mantle woven with both tenderness and fire. And within that mantle, sensuality breathes as the undercurrent of everything she touches.

She pours honey into her tea as if stirring a spell.

She wraps herself in fabric that listens when she moves. She tastes the sweetness of a moment held slowly, the way the air thickens around her when she closes her eyes and remembers that she is still a body of want, still a woman of aching joy, still a creature who hungers for communion with all

that pulses and responds.

Her sensuality arises from the depth of a body that has known the threshold between worlds, that has crossed it with life in her arms and soul on her sleeve,that has never stopped being an oracle of what it means to feel the world from the inside out.

And in the quiet moments, when she runs her fingers across her own collarbone, with the same reverence she once used to soothe another,

when she touches herself to return home to her own sacred heat, she becomes a temple of her own worship.