"Pleasure" : A lyrical essay about sex with ulcerative colitis

Pleasure

After years of chronic pain

I fight to remember

To reconnect with my skin

I touch the softness of my thighs

The skin of my stomach, and around my stoma

I hold the scar at my pubic bone, grazing it gently

Reconnecting to my body

Trying to feel something other than pain

I roll around a bit, touching more of my skin

My breasts, my collarbone, my upper arms

I slowly turn it on and exhale

This breath is labored as well

I pretend that someone else is with me

Touching and helping me feel

Loving my body as I am now

I slowly use the toy, gently in and out

Feeling my lower abdominal muscles contract

The muscles remember

That not all contraction causes pain

They have a part in this pleasure too

I bring my hand to my left hip 

And feel bone and muscle moving under my skin

I rock back and forth as my hand traces my inner thigh

Remembering the beauty there

I find the connection back to my body through the mounting pleasure

Soon I find the exact spot I need

Like a wave in the cold sea, splashing against my skin, 

My fingers dig into my hip

Grasping onto my body as I become overwhelmed

With such a pleasurable feeling

..I know I’m alive.

My body can’t disappear when it still has the beautiful ability to produce this feeling.