Blessings on the hand
Let there be copious blessings on the hand,
wise and slow, that finds its way across
the explosive expanse of tender flesh
bypassing delicately the minefields of reactive muscle
primed to cramp and knot,
dexterously skirting the rusty razor wire
of tortured nerves stretched to the limit,
stopping when and where the focus of desire
pulses mutely waiting.
The hand does next to nothing, resting,
nested in the exact place. Being all there.
But then a simple song of longing can be heard,
the oldest song, the prayer
that we don’t know we know,
a few softly aspirated vowels.
Then let there be copious blessings on the hand.
Carnivore Diet - Can't solidly recommend it
Optimising LD timings
Dr. Greger's view on NAD supplementation
