Resurrection feels, at first, like an oddly fitting dress to me. Tight in all the wrong places with an unflattering pattern and itchy seam. When my Bodysex sister first uttered the phrase “Gracious Resurrection” to describe how she felt at the end of the workshop, I...

I have turned to liquid. Not so much swimming as melting into the sounds of sisters and myself as I, we, sink deeper into the mystical, magical experience of erotic recess. Charging ourselves with pleasure for ourselves. Showing myself to myself. What feeds me, what...