Tales from Under the Elastic

Tales from under the Elastic

By Katie Sarra

This collection uncovers the stories from under the elastic. It holds up the lace and silk and cotton. It holds up the PVC nylon and polyester. It holds in our intimate parts. It discloses and hides at the same time. We know what’s in there dressed in so many ways. Every pair of knickers has a story.

Knickers become part of the fabric of the bodies total communication with the social world… this is the discreetness of the knickers message. So wearing sexy or un sexy underwear are gestures to the self unseen but this gesture is non the less communicated in our interactions. They have a tactile and privately visual presence under our clothes that sits as a layer of consciousness expressed indirectly or directly in our interactions with others.

A tale from under the elastic

The knicker is a social boundary, it expresses something about the identity of the occupant but it hides from the social gaze the most intimate gestures of the body…those which we are common to us all but kept out of sight and smell. The knicker can be seen as partly a castle, partly a seductive entrance …without the knicker, desire can find no where to imagine its self. The knicker can be a fortress to protect the occupant from the perceived attack of the gaze or can be an invitation to explore.

What is the Purpose of a Yoni?

LadyPainting by Katie Sarra

Pleasure of course!
I am here to give pleasure,
I am here to receive pleasure,
I am here to create pleasure.
She serves her womb and eggs,
She serves her wombs dreams.
Her life line is my life line,
Her red path is my red path.
She plumps and swells and her juices flow to receive his seed to orgasm with creation.
She is the opening for creation,
She births babies beyond her stretched imagination.
She stretches wide in hidden parts of my dream states.
She shows me my essential self,
She is my guide,
It’s her voice I listen to to know.
She bleeds and lets go of what I need to let go of,
She holds into what I cant let go of,
She bleeds into the earth to feed my plants,
She bleeds into water to wash away and cleanse,
She bleeds into white to show me her womb walls released,
She births dreams,
She is the power house of my creations.
She makes my eyes shine,
She makes me laugh howl and smile,
She makes my skin glow,
She is magic,
She makes me feel magic,
She makes me see him magical,
She can make me blush and flush,
She’s my friend.

Introduction to Yoni Talk

It’s like learning a new language writing from Yoni. She expresses herself from body and feeling states in her archaic body language.  She writes from our dream states emerging through translation into words.

This is a journey with our dark continents that we can only see with a mirror ourselves, this is an opportunity for what is hidden to be revealed and mirrored.

Yoni1Yoni painting by Katie Sarra

Held in gusset
inside skin
between crossed legs
tendons keeping her in
desires cell bound
thoughts of his hands discovering
innocence until touched
under elastic and lace
desires to be found finger their way in
tendons relax
she asks to feel the air
to be in his eyes
to be with his hearts tongue
to feel her walls filled
to feel her swell
to be seeded
dripping
gripping
serving her womb
serving her cock
serving nature
pleasure in giving
pleasure in receiving

Yoni2Yoni painting by Katie Sarra

Archaic Letter from Yoni. 2am.

Coddled in bed

Rolled up tissue squashing my lips in tight.

No ‘in’ right now as I turn my tides out.

In to the in.

Hot water bottle heat radiates from scalding fur to tendons in spasm.

Bed inside is loosing its mattress and pooling my springs.

Asleep sleeping seep into gusset.

Dreams unstitched from their padding.

Deep aches seek relief in releasing wind but its not there that wants out.

The want in wants out.

Prayers out.

Wants of being sprayed and seeded loosen their hold.

Rising currents of sliding flesh swim back.

Small eye weeping and laughing with cervix heart.

Soft sacks patting perineum.

Pounding heart with heart.

Trickles cannot match this pain.

Lips soft and oozing tributes.

Padded held.

Lips soft spouting seeds and eggs.

Lips soft and oozing dreams.

Rumbling quiet tremors.

Leaking plum sponge.

Bursting banks steam stream.

Resting Strawberries and liver.

Soft lips.

Cave in her warm walls wet.

Archaic Yoni