The ecstasy

Sex gets separated from the rest of our lives. Its energy threatens us, so we separate it off, compartmentalise it, try to make it safe, Binding with briars my joys and desires as William Blake put it in The Garden of love.

This is a problem for us whether or not we are in a sexual relationship.

It is a problem for us if we try to cut our imaginary identity off from our sexuality.

This thing of darkness I acknowledge mine, as Shakespeare put it in The Tempest.

In John Donne’s poem The ecstasy are the lines,

Love’s mysteries in souls do grow, 
But yet the body is his book.