Day 17 one day late.

warm fingertips press against nodes, hardened by toxins of tension and stress.

soft lights, low soothing music, no sound other than muscles relaxing, stretching out.

a sensation, an experience of being somewhere, someone else, on another plane without any pressure.

a tender spot here, a knot there, give way to coaxing hands.

mesmerized by music, the conscious state hovers between the here and now, and slowly melts away.

pliant and malleable no longer tight or resistant, soft and light as air.

in a stupor, i stumble from the room.

I hope you all had a lovely weekend!


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