Soul Journal

I’m sitting in a yoga class and I am having a lot of trouble concentrating. The issue is not the teacher. It’s not the temperature, or the mat, or the threat of work stresses clouding my consciousness.

It’s the astonishingly hot beauty who is currently in downward dog position on the mat in front of me.

Oh sweet loveliness.

Her long limbs keep flexing and stretching their way into my vision as I try my very best to salute the sun.  She is wearing a racerback singlet and her back and shoulders are covered in delightfully intrinsic floral tattoos.  I want to run my hands over buttocks, over her shapely thighs and feel the warmth that would be radiating from her mound.