Wired for ecstasy

Self pleasure is no perversion.
We are wired for ecstasy. 
Show me — he said,
All the places where you hold bliss.

She hesitated awhile, 
Hands nervously smoothing the camisole,
Fingers skimming the waistband of her knickers.
Then. 
She kicked off the hard-coded moralities
Embedded over the years. 
Cast off the insecurities, 
Gifted to her by the body beautiful industry.
Bravely stripped off her inhibitions. 
And finally stood there,
In nothing but bare golden skin

And proceeded to show him, 
The gateway to a stunning universe.

Art: Lola Jovanovich