ABSTRACT
It was high time I learned to become a good lover. Other than having you in my pregnant, ecstatic belly, sexuality was still my only access to the sacred-to the kind of life energy that made me feel connected with the universe. But my love stories were still monogamous and monosexual, for I still bought into the conventional dream of romantic love. The months around the separation between me and your dad were filled with friendly technical experiments that became useful later on.
