Erotica: Finding Pleasure in the Essential Art of Touch

Fair warning, lovers: This one will be very different from the others. (Are you reading this at the office, by the way? Because you might not want to be reading this at the office. But then again, maybe you really do.)

Consistency is divine but so is disruption. So is surprise.

This post is not about how to’s or fixing or changing anything. It’s about feeling.

Feeling. Everything.

Feeling, it seems to me, is a precious and increasingly scarce form of artistry. People are numbed out all over the damn place trying to avoid feelings of pain but also, in more cases than we seem to realize, trying to avoid feelings of good honest organic pleasure (because, you know, the guilt and the guilt and the guilt and everything – and then there’s the guilt).

Odd things, we.

Maybe it’s better (more accurate? more tragic?) to say that avoiding our feelings has become a twisted art form in itself.

Somehow, in these overcharged, overstimulating, hyper-sexed times, we end up numb and ashamed when all we really crave is to be touched and awakened.

Somehow, while being tossed around inside a culture that glamorizes sex, we end up shut down and afraid instead of opened up and pleasurably fulfilled.

What I am about to ask you to do is straight forward: I’d like to invite you to feel something. Feel without judgment. Feel with your mind open to the idea that pleasure is good and delicious and necessary.

Simple. Beautiful. Rare.

Warning number two (okay, WTF is about to happen, right, seriously with the warnings): If you’re too hell-bent on trying to intellectualize this – to reason with it, explain it, analyze it, get it right – you will destroy it.

If you don’t trust me, you won’t do it. I hope I’ve earned it.

If you don’t trust yourself, you won’t do it. I hope you’ve earned it.

If you don’t trust the Universe to hold you and stroke you and love you madly into shattered pieces and back again, you won’t do it.

What follows are four sensual poems, each one written by me, and all I am asking you to do is to notice how they make you feel. Take your time and let them play through you.

Are they erotica?

I am only asking you to let them touch you in whatever way they do.

You ready, babe?  You comfortable-not-comfortable?

Perfect. Let’s do.

// currency //

the candy of you drips
its final drop into me
there will come a time when exposure
will be the only seductive and appreciated
an ancient debt will be required of you
to return
and willingly you’ll give it
until then, false gods watch the shadows
genuflect before crisscrossing the streets
as you sit on the painted edge of a wooden chair
with pinned together legs, listless,
staring into the face
of a clock.

// recipe //

make the sound of who i am in the white noise
drag it all down and fill it with holes
in the ground.
i’m not waiting any longer for this.
rush along caverns of barbed wire
laced in vain.
i’m not where you thought i’d be.
fold yourself three times and let me watch.
open up: taste familiar? this is the recipe
we measured ourselves
for a thickened crush of dragon’s heads
twisted like vines around the whirl of blades
in these elegant words.
i’ve gone and left everything so
what is this worth?
the hand in my hand
is just your skeleton
with mine.

// afraid //

tell me this and i’ll release
your hands, my love, be still:
how much do you
hold back?
how much do you blister to say
with lungs collapsing in.
how often do you bite that
truth lusted tongue and what
do you sell yourself for
blindfolded, wet with
a taste for things that collect the air
from those precious glossy veins
you carry on pulsing in
the dark
what are you afraid of
caving in
on you?

// soak //

radio static is coming in sharp now
an addictive prick of snapping and shussshhh
your voice is mourning or a
laugh, symbols of a language i was taught
but discarded.
i pull the shades and damp sheets
over me, press together my lashes,
my thighs,
my ear to this machine.
the noise makes everything in the room, in my mouth,
the rain is falling up into the stars, made to watch
our attempt at light competing
it’s hollow but the transmitter picks it up:
a ricochet of thoughts stampeding
the thunder of a thousand wings thrusting in my chest
every heart that ever tried and missed


Thank you for reading.  If all this did was allow you a few private moments to tap into the feelings, sensations, and emotions in your body, mind and spirit, then it was worthwhile.

I believe in the spiritual and physical power of art to do two incredibly remarkable things at the exact same time: ground us back into our bodily sensations, and expand our minds and spirits far out beyond our perceived limitations.

Erotica is art intended to arouse sexual desire.  Recently, some beautiful souls have asked me if that is my intention with my poetry.  (I love this question and I love those of you who asked it.)

My intention with what I create is to allow for the possibility for it to touch you on all levels: sexual, physical, emotional, spiritual, and creative. I’m open to that. If you are, too, you will feel it. That’s the way energy works.

I think that’s quite tremendously cool. In a world that uses cheap sex to numb out, I want to use erotica to plug us back in, turn us back on, wake us back up.

There is something devastatingly beautiful in allowing the natural experience of that kind of ache, that kind of humble willingness to connect on a level deep and wide. There is a bravery and strength in that kind of vulnerability.

That kind of deep self-respect, self-care, and self-love. That way of welcoming the full experience of who we are.

In pure form, sexuality is inextricable from spirituality.

“This golden age was a time of experimentation – and the experimentation involved using yoga, massage, meditation, and Tantra – all designed to open participants to the free movement of kundalini energy in the body. The goal was to use that which is pleasurable to build up, strengthen and move the energy up the spine toward the top of the head, and in this process, to open to a deeper spirituality.”

from Sensuality, Sexuality, Spirituality Entwined, Phoenix Centre

My intention is to remind us of the strange sexiness of who we are as fascinating, wild creatures. To allow a space to open up within us for the surrender to our incredible mystery, magic, and energy.

A sensual place where we give intellect a rest and let intuition, instinct, and feeling take over.

To open up and surrender to the boundless vibrations of curious love that we naturally are.

“(I write stories, poems, and novels. I usually write my stuff along the sex trail to keep them awake, and while they’re awake I give them the rest of it. I sneak it to them. I give them morphine and then pull out their slim souls.)”

Charles Bukowski from Absence of the Hero

One of the sickest ironies of our time is that we are oversexed and yet we are starved for touch. Hungry for art, literature, erotica that touches us on every level, that honors us on every level.

We are starved for the pleasure of seduction.

We are hopeful but afraid to feel what turns us on. But we do not have to be, you guys. We do not have to be.

We can give the art of touch space in our lives, in our work, in our art, in our relationships (both with partners and with ourselves).

“Lady I will touch you with my mind.
Touch you and touch and touch
until you give
me suddenly a smile, shyly obscene

(lady i will
touch you with my mind.) Touch
you, that is all,

lightly and you utterly will become
with infinite ease

the poem which i do not write.”

e.e. cummings, XVII, erotic poems

How many of us dare to allow ourselves to experience the pleasure and strangeness we are capable of manifesting? How many without guilt, pain, judgment, shame?

Art is the gift of pure mystery in forms we can see, taste, touch, finger, hear. Imagine.

Feel, angel.

That’s all I’m inviting you to do. My god, how we grope in this life for things to fill us needlessly. When we are not empty. If only we would allow ourselves to feel what we already have within us. What a feast.

When we create with abandon and truth, what comes forward can be felt deeply within the body and at the same time propels us beyond the body, beyond the mind, into the divine expression of all that we are beyond what we can even comprehend.

Erotica, art, reminds us how it feels for the body and the soul to touch one another.  When is the last time you let that astound you, my beautiful love?

Body and soul to touch, to work, to pleasure, to deliver, to release, to birth.

When both are willing and ready to come together:



P.S. If you would like to further explore this topic, I invite you to check out the latest collection by the exotic brilliance that is Mitch Gobel (of Mitch Gobel Resin Art) called Sex Is Art. EXTREME CONTENT WARNING on this one, chicks and dudes. While made with affection, this collection is also very explicit and decidedly raw. You can follow Mitch Gobel on Instagram @mitchgobel_resinart and his partner @sallymustang if you’d like to see how their story unfolds. (It will soon be a book – you heard it here first. x)

P.P.S. Thank you, as always, for sharing my work with your family and friends. It means everything to me to know that the work I have chosen to do with all my heart is making a positive impact on a broken world. Bless you, stay fierce, love you so. Allison Marie xx



Art and Soul for about page


26 thoughts on “Erotica: Finding Pleasure in the Essential Art of Touch

      1. Amitav

        You’re welcome, Allison. You have a unique way of connecting with the readers and your writing exudes warmth and positivity. Blessings to you. :)

        1. Allison Marie Post author

          What an absolutely beautiful thing to say, Amitav. It’s everything I pray to be able to do. On a post in which I so deeply hoped to touch, you have deeply touched me. I’m tucking this one in close. :)

  1. Samira

    Gorgeous, gorgeous post. Delicious and evocative. Feeling is everything. Erotica, sex, love, desire, spirituality, closing ones eyes and getting lost in feeling. Nothing else. The world stops. The pleasure begins, and we ride the wave of passion, similar to how we write. Lost in the words. Lost in the feeling and sometimes, we just never, ever want to stop. Love this post 💜💕 thank you beautiful, sexy, deep soulful babe. Love you xxx

    1. Allison Marie Post author

      Thank you so much, my gorgeous goddess friend. I could not agree with you more and I love your comment, your energy, and your openness to ride this wave. You describe it perfectly.

      I am CRUSHING on your saying it is similar to how we write. Fuck. Yes. The way we create is an ecstatic thing.

      This place is always brighter and richer for your presence, thoughts and light, angel. Thank you from the body, mind, and soul. Love you through the stars and back around, wild child. xxx

      1. Samira

        Oh you gorgeous, magnificent soul. How we create is definitely an ecstatic thing! How we feel is everything, for without it our life is simply beige. Big love from the Wyld child 💜💕 💋💋 xx

  2. Brad

    Delicious post my sexy, soulful sister. I love the post and poems and most of all your intention to bring us back to our wonderful bodies and feelings. And the clarity to both ground us and inspire us.
    I taste of your sweet waters and come out refreshed… :)

    1. Allison Marie Post author

      Brad? Your comment literally brings the house down. I mean, really, truly, honestly. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to know this touched you.

      Your response is sheer poetic love. How many people never let themselves feel that through and through? You are a blessing, my soul brother. This was an especially vulnerable one for me to put out there. Thank you endless for being open to the message and to me. I hold that close.

      Sending you MONSTER SIZE love and every warm delicious thing. ;) X

    1. Allison Marie Post author

      Lola! Thank you so much for your visit and feedback, that means so much to me. ❤️ I’m thrilled you enjoyed the poetry.

      And Cummings right? Could you freaking scream. Xxx

  3. Pierre Mhanna

    In a world of obsessives lovemaking amounts to fornication, is something I recently read. Erotica is the art of (re)awakening the intimacy with the objects and thoughts of our daily lives, the objects, spaces, and thoughts we daily inhabit, summoning them back from the oblivion into which a busy age has cast them. With intimacy comes erotic feltness, which is an awareness of the crucial tension uniting and collating two separate, distinct bodies or objects (even if this body or object is a thought or emotion within us or the palm of our own hand). Only then, as we feel ourselves deeper into this tension and immerse ourselves in it do we truly begin to touch and to learn what touching is; only then do we begin to unlock the intuitive doors within us and realize how the inner and outer correlate and echo one another. We become lovers, or love embodied, and begin to learn that the art of touch involves learning when to close up or withhold our touch and presence too — and, oddly, our closing up and withdrawing is a form of touching too.

    Another thought on tension: we humans are condemned to the vertical stance (the Kundalini image and intuition, though I’m not a versed yogi); we are walking flames basically. And a flame, shiver as it might in the wind, is condemned to hold its vertical stance once again and reach up to the dome of the sky. Surrender is this robust and yet supple walking; and as the heat in our loins (our engines) fires up we reach higher, aiming for the sky.

    Greatly enjoyed your words and poems, and the space they open up in the soul as one reads them. A transformative currency.

    1. Allison Marie Post author

      Hello, hello Pierre,

      Your comment is rich and beautiful, beautiful, thank you for taking the time and care to engage and share. I will be reading through it again to pull some themes and further explore them. I truly enjoy the mindfood.

      I fully appreciate what you talk about with regard to tension. “only then do we begin to unlock the intuitive doors within us and realize how the inner and outer correlate and echo one another.” What an exqisite line. Yes, yes, in every way. I love that you call this an echo, how perfectly expressed.

      The concept of withholding touch and presence is profound. That “closing up is a form of touching, too.” I could eat those words, they are divine. They are truth.

      Your thoughts rest in this place like a meditation, my talented friend. I am honored and grateful for your presence and light in this space.

  4. Peter

    As always, your words touch upon what has been dwelling, mostly hidden, just behind my consciousness. Inspiring and encouraging and challenging as always. <3

    1. Allison Marie Post author

      I absolutely LOVE when you stop by this place, Pete. And knowing you found something here that can serve you well is The Everything I could hope for. I really dig that you said this was not just inspiring but also challenging… that’s so awesome, guy. Much love to you. Xx

  5. Adam A.

    Hi Allison, I’m Adam from Instagram (@adamwriters) this was amazing, you write with your soul and I can feel each and every word, worths an applaud, keep posting and stay awesome . <3

    1. Allison Marie Post author

      Adam A! I’m thrilled to bits to see you here in this place – welcome. ;)

      It means so much to me that you would take the time to read, engage, and leave such a gorgeous comment. Thank you deeply, my friend. I’m really glad to know you enjoyed this and that it serves you well. That’s everything.

      I will, I promise – and you stay awesome, too. x <3

    1. Allison Marie Post author

      That means so much to me, coming from you Charlie, thank you so deeply. I could not have hoped for a more beautiful reception than your comment here. I’m truly grateful.

      Sending you much love and light, guy. :)

    1. Allison Marie Post author

      We are so kindred it’s the perfect madness. Your art of expression is just beautiful so it means a lot to me that you’ve connected with mine. Love! x


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