Listen to a recording of this poem with my deep and Israeli-accented voice:
I love your body.
I love that scar on your skin.
You are such a perfectly imperfect woman.
I can stare at it for hours.
I love kissing your scar.
I love the feel of your scar on my tongue.
I love your body.
I love the smell of your body in the morning, or after a long day.
I wanna smell you.
Your body.
Your sweat.
Your B-O.
I love it.
It turns me on.
It relaxes me.
Don’t shower before you come to make love with me.
I don’t want to smell your deodorant, even if it’s natural and cruelty-free and organic and ethical and made by virgin nuns in the amazons.
It’s YOU that I want to smell.
I love your smell.
I love your body.
I love your belly.
Take that photo of the woman with the 6 pack abs OFF your vision board.
I don’t want that.
I want your soft protruding belly.
Breathe into your belly, let it expand.
You are a woman.
You have a belly.
Let your belly be round, and soft, and relaxed.
I love your body.
I love how tall you are.
Yes i’m shorter than you.
Don’t crouch when you hug me.
Don’t make yourself small for anyone.
I don’t want an A frame hug.
I wanna feel your whole body when we hug, even if my head is against your neck or the pit of your shoulder.
and then, when we lie down, there is no taller and shorter, and i’m holding all of you in my arms.
I love how tall you are.
Stand tall.
Walk tall.
You were born to stand out.
I love your body.
I love how small you are.
I can see and feel your beautiful power and strength in this small body.
Celebrate and enjoy how small you are.
There are so many men around who are admiring you because you are small. Petite.
and,
Finally I can hug someone to my chest.
I love your body.
I love your small breasts.
They are such a turn on.
Stop trying to adhere to porn and the media’s ideals of breast size and shape.
You don’t need to wear a bra.
Can you be happy with that?
So your nipples show – so what? that’s so beautiful.
Or you can just wear a crop top.
I love your small breasts.
They will not sag.
They don’t hurt when you run or jump.
And, did you know that women with small breasts are more sensitive?
So, enjoy your breasts.
I love your body.
I love your big full breasts.
I salivate when I look at your breasts.
They kiss my chest when I hug you, or when you lie on top of me.
They melt my hands as I hold them.
So, you’re getting lots of attention.
Can you accept that?
Can you enjoy that?
I love your body.
I love your voluptuous curves.
I love your juicy thighs.
I love your gorgeous abundant waists.
I love your wide hips.
I love your big ass.
Yes you have a big ass, and I adore it.
I love your body.
I love how elegantly slim you are.
If this is how you naturally are – I love that.
I love your hip bones sticking out of your belly.
I love your slim long arms and legs and thigh gap.
I love how easily i can lift you in the air.
I love watching your rib cage and your long neck and your small cute ass.
I love your body.
I love your skin.
You feel self conscious about your cellulite.
I just see cute dimples.
Why do you think you need to look like some photoshopped anorexic model?
You hate those spots on your skin?
i love them.
So, you have pimples.
I love you and your body, including the pimples.
I love your body.
I love your breasts.
You say you wish your breasts were at their glory when you were 20 or when you were pregnant.
You are sad that they are sagging.
But i look at your breasts and see the evidence of you feeding and nurturing a child, two children, three children, for years.
I love your breasts.
And I love how sensitive your nipples are after having been sucked for years. Your breasts are alive. They are like living entities, singing in my hands and in my mouth.
I love your body.
I love your stretch marks.
They remind me of the life you carried inside you for 9 months.
Your stretch marks are like art.
No, they ARE art.
Your body is art.
I love looking at your stretch marks.
I follow them.
I love your body.
I love looking at your face when you wake up.
No make up.
No lotions.
Just your natural beautiful skin with its freckles and blemishes and lines and spots.
Yes I also love it when you express your feminine with your make up.
But do it because you want to play, not because you feel you need to hide anything.
I love your wrinkles.
They are the traces of you smiling, and laughing, and crying, and frowning, and being alive on this earth for more than 30 years.
I love your grey hairs.
There is wisdom in each one.
I love your body.
I love your thick eyebrows and hairy arm pits and your abundant pubic bush.
I love how people see that and get triggered.
You are a natural woman.
A wild woman.
A real woman.
I love burying my face in your bush and feeling how it tickles me.
I love looking at your bush and seeing your lips hidden underneath.
I love your body.
I love your waxed, shaved smooth skin.
I love the texture and feel of your skin.
I love looking at your pussy and seeing… everything.
I love the sensation of your smooth skin against my lips.
I love your body.
I love your pussy.
I love your protruding inner lips that porn doesn’t approve of.
I love your tiny inner lips.
I love how your clit is hidden for me to re-discover and delight her.
I love how your clit is showing off, saying “ here i am”.
I love your asymmetrical lips. your different-skin-colored lips. your young pussy. your postpartum pussy.
I love your body.
I celebrate you.
I enjoy you.
I appreciate you.
I worship your feminine form in all its expressions.
I love your body.
You don’t need to love your body because a man loves your body.
But can you allow yourself to accept a man’s love and appreciation of your body?
Can you allow yourself to love your own body ?
Is it finally time to love and accept yourself as you are?
~Eyal Matsliah,
Sexual empowerment coach, speaker, and author
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To learn how to love yourself, become deeply orgasmic, transform your sex life, and share your gift with the world, do the following:
check out my coaching for women:
https://intimatepower.com/coach
Join the “sexual empowerment for women” fb group:
https://www.facebook.com/group
*typos and grammar errors are my gift for you. I’m not perfect. Thank god.
Checkout the SoundCloud version of this poem here.