THE WHITE HORSE part 30

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And there sat the one who never spoke a word and yet her word spoke volumes. Her name wasn’t anything, it was only a story and yet she held the mask tight to her furrow, buttons for eyes, “unbutton me,” she wrote, to him the only one she thought was alive. She sat in the field, like an animal while the flowers rode her back and she imagined him more, the only real part of her that nothing could find. The trees stood watching and the sound was silence, his silence the birds that hung still over her head, the light shook and nobody moved. “I think he’s coming,” she said to a flower and the earth smiled and lit up into song. Only she could hear. A maddening story, the horse that nobody wanted, invisible in the field and dying invisibly in the song. “Soft and dark,” she whispered like a butterfly nobody felt. The flowers fall and cover me until I carry them home, he is waiting like the trees and she knew, she couldn’t carry this invisible mask forever. “I would wear the black one,” she thought, he would know then what to do. “Bright, you’re bright, I’m tired of writing,”

…writing it down inside stars that move. The light points into the dark of now, unknown his throne of her in the sky. There would be no looking back, no cloud that meant more than the black burning star she rode wearing flowers. The white horse laid down and dreamed him again, for the lonely, yellow girl no one saw. And the story was that she was, a rare unspeakable bird and the idea was that he was her song broken open from tears. I do believe in tears, they brought me to you, the mask I would imagine could touch me, under the rain, inside the flowers while everything shook and my heart was alive only in his dreams. “But I’m real.” she thought as she turned the pages she had written. “But he’s real,” she thought as she imagined the tree would listen and absorb his body like rain. I could form a sentence with your eyes, I could see the sky and know you. Stormy, not gray but black made by me, midnight black and haunting my words. Words of mysterious, traveling love. As far as the eyes can see, he lifted me like moon vapor into the other world where I wrote you, she took me, under the world into this shadowy love. You knew me as I spread my wings and cried the world alive again. The other world, the blue sea dolphin world, the world as two bodies touch inside, inbetween, the flowers…I could touch you there. Wet with heavenly light, with stars that drip like pearls from moon water. I could hear you like the waves hitting the body of her. “They might say I’m death,” I whispered, “and they might say I’m you.” he replied…

he became as I cried into a cloud as white as his feathers. Dark Angel. Venus died. Her words found you, burying her body in soft mourning light, remembering me lost in the flower, written by you, the hand of God…I knew you loved me when you touched yourself and I cried.

A whole world was inside my head by now orbiting you as it’s mask. And I took off my face and you stood holding flowers like perfectly ruptured gods of light. And everything shook as I died in your arms.

In my story it’s all you, even the invisible threat at the end when nothing moves but memories, back into the forgetful sky, and I remember you forever as the only one I ever loved. As myself.

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As we approached the dark castle in the twilight, me hanging like a moonlit snake in his arms, delirious and yet lucid, like a bright dream he carried me through the winding paths of flowers and fruit, of wild birds and my simple white thoughts of him being Pan and me being loved, he yelled out “Enki.” into the empty sky and within moments Enki appeared slinking out of the shadows. “Enki, have her bath prepared in my chambers. Have dinner brought to my room.
Have my bed made for her as well there.” “Yes, master.” Enki replied and was gone. We walked in through the back entrance and through the castle we moved room by room, then as we approached the two spirals of stairs, one going down into my room and one going up, we went up. He carried me up the spiral stairs and we arrived at a large, gothic looking, black door with a big iron handle. There was a sign above the door that read, “All ye who enter here, abandon hope.” And we entered and a sudden hopeless love flooded every cell of my body for no reason at all except that I was with him in his room and he smelled like smoke from a fire. I could barely lift my head to look around as he carried me through his chambers and toward what was the bathing room. What I saw I can only describe as exactly how I experienced him. Black walls and floors, glowing from no obvious light source, just a pale moonlight sort of sheen as if there were opals hidden in the walls. The ceiling, walls and floor all aglow in a dim and bewitching light. The furnishing was dark, sparse and elegantly simple. A large, round bed with a deep red blanket spread across it, a small dark couch, a black wooden table and a chair. In the corner near a window covered by a deep red velvet curtain was a black, onyx scrying bowl filled with clear water and across from that a large ornate oval mirror. There were white orchids filling the room, and a large, polished black rock fireplace with flames going wild inside. Then, I felt a moon watching me, and so I looked up and saw a magnificent skylight etched out of crystal with soft rainbow light prisms swirling from the shine of the full moon’s face looking down from above us. His room was exactly as I would have seen him turned inside out. The room smelled like roses and lavender and that’s because as we entered the bathing room there were roses and lavender everywhere. Filling the white waters, there was a pool similar to the pool in my room but instead of a dragon on the pool’s edge, there was a giant white marble swan in the center of the pool with a hooded, black marble cobra rising behind her. They slowly circled as white water dripped from the cobra’s fangs and white water poured from out of the eyes of the swan as tears would. It was exquisitely poetic that even in my delirium, the beauty of tears and poison did not evade me, and what it meant, and how I saw him, struck me deeply until tears began to rise from my heart, tears I swallowed that I know he tasted as he looked at me and smiled without moving anything visible. I felt him inside as a white healing elixir. I knew as he saw me, that he saw me inside the mythic rain of the swan and the cobra. “Can I set you down here? Are you able to walk?” He quietly asked looking deeply into my eyes waiting for my answer as if my words meant more than they were. “Yes, I can walk.” I replied. And so he gently placed me on the steps to the warm white water pool and said, “They will be here to help you with your bath, but for now you can enter the water.” The sound of harps saturated the air as I slowly moved step by step into the water, the white water blanketed in luminous flowers and one by one four beautiful fairies appeared, the most beautiful ones of all. The fairies humming gently around the edges of the pool as I descended into it’s healing waters.

He stood watching her long, naked body moving gracefully into the bath waters and even now after all of this darkness had engulfed her, she was as radiant as any swan could ever be, she seemed to float with a body of skin that was lighter than even the feathers of the fairies. He watched her from behind as she moved down, thin and ethereal like an orchid waiting to be fed by the sun, he wanted to feed her anything and all of him. And as she stood alone surrounded by nothing, he heard her humming so sweet and innocent that he only wanted to die into her voice for all eternity. She had no idea of the mystical powers she so effortlessly held, no idea that he was her flower, her cobra, her devoted consort for life.

After my bath, the fairies wrapped me in a soft, white shawl made of cashmere. A shawl that went all the way to the floor. They brushed my hair and did not remove the diamond amulet, they put the oil of roses on my neck and the top of my head and that was it. I had no clothes only a shawl, like a blanket that covered me. I was weak, tired and hungry. My entire body was surrendered in a love I have yet to understand, but I’ll try by saying, I left myself like a bird and flew to the crystal ceiling and I watched him make love to me without touching me at all, with every light, every sound, every moment the ecstasy of his soul infusion, his ground beneath me, his heaven that lifted me and kissed away death. His eyes in the water, his hands upon the swan, his love for her body, his poison drinking her flower, his everything in the mirror of water, his muse in the crystal, my voice in his heart.
Until he touches me, I won’t eat a thing. I have no food, this starving lamb without him. Blood in the water, bitten by snakes, hard cobras wrapped around my neck, eyes that have raped me. With him, everything was gone. I stood gazing into the water as the fairies sang my song. When I heard the door open I turned and there he stood holding out his hand to me. “I can eat now.” I thought as I took his hand and he led me to his bed. As I sat on the bed, the fairies came from behind and more entered the room until there were at least a dozen. Bringing food, lighting candles and lanterns everywhere, pulling down the blankets for me, “You will stay with me tonight.” He said motioning with his eyes for me to lay back against the pillows.

He sat on the edge of the bed holding my hand just looking at me the way a mother would look at a hurting child. I felt so bare, exposed, more than a naked body, so painfully vulnerable, in a way so raw, I felt desperate. I didn’t know how to deal with these intense feelings he so effortlessly stirred from the depths of my soul. So I just exhaled and closed my eyes, holding back strange tears, I held his hand with both of mine and I stroked his hand as I inhaled his love. His love for me, although I was starving, was very disturbing, like a probe going deeply into places more comfortable to remain hidden. He was a sorcerer, and although at the moment he was to me, a man that I loved, I should not forget the seduction he is capable of. Myself being a virgin in white, myself being as black and worn as death, myself being as hollow as a flower with no fragrance, myself being as wet as the morning dew and as burnt as the fires of hell. “How could anyone ever love me?” I thought as more tears were swallowed. “It isn’t hard.” He said, “To love you Ambrosia. To swallow your tears as if they were nectar from the gods.” I forgot he can hear me. “Yes, I hear you.” “I hear you too.” I whispered inside to him, as lost as I could be in having no place to hide. “It’s alright,”
He spoke gently. “I’ve always known you.” And he handed me a glass of blood red, magical wine. Which, without any hesitation I began to drink as if I were in love with no hope at all. Hopelessly seen and heard in every dark crack and hiding place. “Abandon hope, your heart is mine.” Blood red wine. “Drink me all.” I heard him like a shadow in the crystal sphere. “Then eat me until there is nothing left. Then fill my hollow corpse wth your poison and tears. Then ride me straight into death my beloved white storm. I can feel you coming. Ambrosia, Venus who kills me.” I looked at him as I swooned, asking silently with my eyes, “Did I just hear you?” He replied with only deep silence, his eyes folding into mine until I saw nothing but the swelling sky, until I felt nothing but his rising thunder.

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I would wear the black mask. I would defy death by not stopping. I would love you to die quickly and forget the colors, even black. I would curse and scream and strip my eyes bare of fear, I would love you to become a face again. I would feel nothing only cool wind and handshakes, I would turn my smile into a skullcup drinking upside down the blood of your Jesus. I would love you just to taste his lips on mine. I would only run, I would never walk. I would stop from even sleeping. I would love you to be tired one more time, to sleep inside of you dreaming of God. I do not turn around. I know who is behind me. I would look for you there and go into God’s shadow. if your lap was warm and your eyes were inside me, I would never rise again, you would be enough to die for…

deeply white light, move into me.
I would love you there.
Sharada Devi

Hard. Shadow Eater

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 I am a Hard Shadow Eater. I made the name up. It works for me better than “such and such devi,” too much pressure to be pretty, kind, all those “goddess” lady like, soft pastimes that I just don’t feel…so it’s rough… and no white horse today alright, tomorrow I’ll probably be recovered…

and let me tell you more…

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yes, I do have tears, tears you can’t find. Tears for the storm I see coming, the rain I will have to become. Tears for tears you won’t cry. Tears for the  words I’ve given that don’t touch you, “I’ve fallen short,” I cry. I’ve given all I have and I never hid a word. You watch me from your silent screen secretly taking my soul without knowing, into tears you then cast back into me. I don’t care if you hear me, I’m the tears in your very own selfish heart. So don’t pretend like we’re the same because I cry for you like you’re God and you cry for you like it’s alll my fault.

Is this working…can you hear me now?

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I may speak of tears as words of decoration. I may cry out love as a way to seduce a stranger. I may churn out sadness from a place so deep you won’t know what I’m saying. I could be someone else and it wouldn’t even matter. It’s all a disguise, a mask chosen as words to weave spells over yearning lovers like you. Stricken without a disease, only longing for a fantasy such as me. But let me assure you it all came out wrong, my words, my alias, everything. I used to hate the snow but now I love it. Cover me in a white Hard freeze until I think I’m pure. Until I’m numb, as cold as you. Until I’m just a speck of lost white…

how about now???

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She said no it wasn’t optional, however his eyes were huge, striking back the clocks surrounded me, and he was the leader of them all. Some sort of fury outbreak, some sort of unhinged beast with a phantom of numbers he slid right under her belt like a soft horse dreaming away how it ran for a good reason, yes to be free from all numbers she said. I knew it was him though, the python with rules that always break, whips that always sting unvirtuous backs. Touching holy snakes, touching dark wisdom. She didn’t care what he said, he wasn’t real. He was a case of slivered eyes, peaking furrows, testimonies of how time is never long enough. I didn’t need a reminder that you didn’t love me, forever is long enough. My cold evil “tears,” the bridge I fall from, the death of moving over to the other side as if anyone is ever listening to her inner secrets instead of her inner thighs. I’m not stupid, everyone wants something, the same thing, sex and power and a rise to a new top. Weeds. I kill weeds like a cold I don’t need to have. You’re a liar, a Hard lust bone, a dumb dog as usual. But I’m the worst, a victim of myself, the bleak pull of it all. Flowers I tear out like hair for the insane, moon locks and rapists and cold leaving trails. Up my back, in my smile, a tail of a reptile. “Tears” aren’t much anyway if that’s what you’re counting on. I feel like a whore dipped in letters and words, for sale, like a desperate, discounted, out dated package of meat. Lamb blood, rare blood, the taste of blood. I could be bleeding. I’m not anything you’d imagine I’d be and so you beat me Hard like a steak. Isn’t that what they do. Tender meat, she’s not looking back at you either. Fuck your noose. Cowards should hang like an unnoticed moon, not me. I’m bright in the “sky,” giving you something and what have you done for me? Torn rings around my eyes? Well it’s not good enough, it’s not like I’m a party tray, an unopened bottle of wine that stunk anyway. Get back in your red hole and die. Go back to your red dog and die. Go back to your fearbag until I blow over, me the scary storm who knew you too well, call a parent, pat your own back for a job never started. Why bother writing it down I ask myself. It’s as useless as my “love” since nobody cares and only sees snakes biting and that’s no reason at all to imagine any of it is real. I thought I was, real I mean, but it was a lie, to myself who wasn’t listening, such a waste of time. The “tears” are going to destroy you and I’ll just let it all slide, ride, whatever. I’m just a bone, an excuse to leave a bad dream. If you don’t like my fucking story then move on. Hide somewhere else waiting to feel your own “soul,” get back striking hand, and hit yourself a little bit harder. Hit it Harder. Harder. Harder! You’re a liar afraid of the hole, afraid of the word, afraid of the smell of your own redemption. It’s a good thing I’m immortal is all I can say because humans suck the biggest dick I’ve ever see. Brainfuck, stop fucking your dream thoughts. It’s not nice to get wet before dinner. Oh I’m a cook as well, and that’s also insulting. So however you suck yourself dry, I’m still just a thumb you don’t want. Hell’s got my name written on it’s table of contents like I’m an unending disease, so you did the right thing changing your name back to earthworm is all I can say.

moving forward…

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Bhagavan das says I shouldn’t kill because I could get bad karma, but I do it anyway. I’m at no shortage for words if you haven’t noticed, but it gets old, sad even, I’m tired of myself.
I’m always hungry I just don’t like the food here on earth. BD is always trying to regulate my “Trip” He’s like “What’s your trip?”…blah blah blah. “I didn’t see you eat today. Did you sleep last night? Why aren’t you eating dinner? Don’t kill things you’ll get bad karma.” I’m like “Whatever dude. I’m trying to get off this planet anyway.” I know it’s bad, I’m a curse, yeah I get your point…I’m not some Christian/ Buddhist, sweet caring feather Hindu lady all swamped with your tender “heart” either. Honestly I didn’t write the story today because I would have had to be:

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“Love this, love that, moons, hearts, souls, oh his eyes…oh my beating heart, lots of flowers, etc.. all this shit that gets nauseating after a while. I’m not hoping for more, trust me. I get that my “tears” aren’t heard. Duh.

I don’t have any, I’m as dry as a desert bone, white and Hard just like you. I turn everyone on- it’s my only control- remember he said, “Once a stripper always a stripper.” Duh again. Geniuses abound. Oh I forgot, play “soft frail angel lady” for best results. Don’t threaten the invisible man. Haha. Wouldn’t you like that. Yes I hate fleas, ticks, mosquitoes blood sucking anythings and I kill them. I kill them good. I kill vampires and I really doubt “God’s” going to hold that against me. My dogs scramble under my feet like worshippers waiting for crumbs and I kick them. I kick them. Hard. You want honesty you got it. I suck. And kill. Hard. I complain because I call it clarifying. BD says “Don’t judge.” (he’s full of the rules believe me) I’m like…”Right, that’s a good one mr. police man.” This is all 100% true day in the life of me. Me, the Shadow Eater, too full, going to blow… Btw, get off your holy horse, I’m not “spiritual” so get off my back with the concerned “Namaste’s.” I hate that word, leave me alone. I’ll do it my way. The Hard way. I’m not holding any jurisdiction or massage parlor title. Ok? I’m just a guy in a rain coat on the side of the highway flashing Hard at cars going by too fast to see…it was a great loss, this scarred naked, soft body. What a waste of money, this soft animal skunk. I lay listening in the dark to a fan on high as my only sound of God. It is the fan, not I, who writes these prophetic words. My dog snores when she’s not sucking her feet and I go insane with rage/disgust and I can’t even yell STOP IT! because she’s deaf, just like everyone else. The night is long. Morning’s even a worse bitch- all up in my face shining, acting like I’ll never get it right. Whatever, you suck too/ you just haven’t written it down. Silent killer, you’re worse, colder than me. “Mystical,” yes me the God throb, fucks every word perfectly Hard and it doesn’t matter what you think or if you got off. I think of only myself and I always get the job done. Thanks for listening at least I say something even if it’s violent and starved for affection. I’m so real it hurts and that’s my biggest problem of all. Stop fucking my picture. It’s my black magic on you if you do. My tantric fuck curse on every limp pitiful dick who wants to get off like a slimy worm in a bathroom over a sink- or, I’ll let you decide as you look in the mirror milking mommy disguised as daddy ok? Oh mommy mommy mommy…I’m just sayin’ …add it up.

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“It’s the mirror.” PROFOUND. Yes, I’ve heard that. Yes, thanks, I’m really fucked up…

reflections of me I presume?

“I’m just a mirror.” (BD famous words)

if you’re just a mirror then WTF am I?!

God it hurts,
Sharada Devi

THE WHITE HORSE part 29

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It was hot and so the room was open all night long, and before the sun I heard the birds and I rose before the dawn. Then your golden fingers
saw me rise and touched my lonely hair. The light broke from a pink and shattered sky and the sun smiled into my eyes. The rays of red, the morning hue, dancing streaks of gold upon my morning floor, all I saw was you…in the promise of the coming moonlight now that day has started, in the birds that call me from the treetops just outside my door. From the vivid
way you touch my skin so early in the wakened sway, of moving the dance inside of you, my swelling heart that rises over the morning and sees the flowers trying. The little flower just near my body opens with no fear at all. The light is coming, even the ghosts remember the shine upon the morning wall, and even they curl themselves around my body waiting for you to touch the face of God, as this yearning love arises…the way the light shimmers upon the leaves that dangle, the way I see the sea is everywhere swimming, in the eyes of air and pain in the mouth of music.

Then you whispered without a sound, from far away you said, “From the dead I rose just for you.” And I said without speaking, “I know, my flower has a face. My heart has a broken light. My body is bruised by a thousand goodbyes.”

And I heard you like a hand on my soul drawing hellos like the birds that fell before, “I only have wings for you.” But you died and you left me. But you leave every night and I’m desperate…

the sun sang daylight into me, and I never forgot your face through my window, your light in my dawn, your seamless surrender into my slumber,
your death wish for me to awaken.

And so I sat in the crimson light while the blood of life dripped like honey from your mouth, as the birds that love me from branches not too far…as the reachable moonshadow, as your body covering mine as if the darkness had to go. As the kiss of light upon my lips of dusk…

It’s ok because I’m drinking light and the sweet nectar of your tears as the light that trickles through my open morning door has made me who I am, the unrequited moonlight in your mystical dying, it’s this moment of me you must touch in the twilight before the sound or anything else living but us,

broken animals on the floor, without light I moved you into me, the rare noon shadow, the bloodless eclipse of blue seance love.

And everyone heard the beginning as God shining in the sun, but I always knew it was you coming back from the dead to find me entering the portal of morning…

looking for you in the sky way beyond the one carrying clouds, but the sky that only holds me. The one that wants only me. The one that sees only me listening for your feet…walking toward me upon the water of light.

If I don’t make sense, you never loved me then. If I don’t move you then there is no light, there would be no God at all…

unless I were drenched in you.

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He sat watching her, letting her be all alone under the tree with the horses. She lay between two bodies of primal purity and as he watched he could see her being infused with their essence. He had brought her here to be healed and strengthened, to put back into her what she lost in the pain. The memories of before and all that had surfaced like poison from her wounded soul. He knew the wrathful action of this cleansing could be treacherous, that he might bring her too close to the brink of annihilation, the kind where there is no turning back into the light. But he knew her, he knew more about her than she knew about herself. He knew what blocked her from her own primal essence, the embodiment of her own Venus light. The torment of watching her starving and listless, suffering and beside herself in the pitch black suffocation of these demons, was unbearable and yet he endured the process for her. He watched over her, protecting her with his own body of light, holding her up from sinking when the demons surfaced looking for food. This was only the beginning though, scratching the surface of those riches below, the poison that destroys and yet also fuels the ancient wisdom. Unless you are a sorcerer, you cannot understand the path of initiation. From the outside it would seem other than what it is, and on the inside it just feels like death and dying, but she had come this far and as he look at her lying between the horses, deflated and hollow he only wanted to fill her with himself and yet he must keep his feelings from interfering with the work.

The sunlight shone through the flowered red tree upon her and even now she appeared as a swan. A wondrous, sacrificial goddess of love that belonged to only him. It wasn’t over yet, but she would need strength to go on and so he would move her into his mystical light and feed her his penetrating love until she was able to move once again into the mythic shadows of God. Beneath the flowered red tree as the sun fell upon the three bodies, he was overcome with love as he watched her, so weak and yet clinging to life in the form of Ceres and Pan, the two inseparable mythical creatures of all that she was, inside the realm of earth magic. To the stars he would take her, inside of himself, the beloved chariot of the savior as the Dark Sun, the lord of the Loom. He would feed her himself as the dark light of love.

As I laid naked and warmed by the sun’s light dancing through the tree, casting shadows of it’s flowering branches upon the cool earth of flowers and leaves, inbetween Ceres and Pan, I was infused with an otherworldly force. Life began to enter me and spread as an intoxicating bliss throughout my fragile body. The power of Pan’s black, sleek skinned body softly pulsing against me as an invincibility not bound by the flesh and the motherly grace of Ceres soft, white light surrounding me in an unconditional love beyond words, made me feel so safe, as if I would always be cared for no matter where I was, they were always with me. This is the promise of kindred souls. I believe we have been together forever if only I could remember…but for now I would accept the unknown, I really had no choice but to surrender to the Dark Sun at least for now until my strength returned. Ceres was silent in her caring while Pan never lifted his muzzle from the crook of my neck breathing hot air into my starving skin. I inhaled new life from the black and the white. I let go of any hope or fear. I became as still as the setting sunlight that now rested gently on the warm earth and I absorbed his eyes into my body and soul, the eyes of the Dark Sun upon me, as I felt him just beyond the red tree loving me silently, secretly opening my heart to the yearning of his body, his body that would strengthen mine by it’s very own desire for me to live inside of it as timeless love. And I knew, and I felt as any witch would, that something was stirring from the sacred depths of the black and the white. That the sun would soon be covered by the moon so that she could live by his secret light and then the sun, tortured by her seduction of light over his body would consume her until she disappeared. This is what I wanted, because I knew, with my astral perception, which was only getting stronger somehow, that he wanted me just as badly as I wanted him. Yet, I understood that he had an agenda that was not totally clear to me. Why would he want to kill me for training? I don’t know and honestly, I was eclipsed by the light of the Loom and it really didn’t matter to me anymore. I would happily die into him if that’s what he wanted, if that’s what it took. His body was to me, an entire solar system of yearning and the magnetic pull of his soul, me into him, was unbearable as long as we remained separate. I have no idea what I’m saying or doing, I have no idea how this will end. I only have Ceres and Pan and this mystical love. I only have him carrying my body in his arms into the light. And as I lay between the two radiant bodies of what I can only say are gods to me, I heard him walking toward me and my heart grew warm inside my chest. He leaned over and looked at me, as if studying my condition and then he lightly smiled, his eyes twinkling gently. “I’m going to take you back now.” I didn’t respond I just kissed Pans neck and then I rested my head on Ceres hoof as a tear fell from my eye, “I will see you soon.” She said in my head and Pan snorted as always, in a tone that I knew by now and it meant, “I love you.” “I love you both as my very self.” I said inside my heart and then I looked into the eyes of the Dark Sun as he lifted me into his arms, against his strong body and he began to carry me back inside. I rested my head on his shoulder, he was so close in a way different than before. I could smell the skin of his neck, I could hear his breath in a way that felt like my own, his heart was beating inside my chest, at least that’s what I felt…then, when we were about half way back he stopped beneath the dying sun and he looked at me so softly as he gently pushed my hair out of my face, and then with his eyes nearly touching mine he whispered, “Are you ok?” His soft voice, his soft eyes, his soft hands, his soft lips…his soft love. I melted in an entirely new way, a death that felt like the most permanent of all. The death of love. “Yes.” Said my eyes.

Soft like an angel she rode in his arms back up to the gothic castle, the Loom. He would keep her with him for awhile, try on some erotic masks that in the end were only see through. Eyes, her eyes, like a swan under water, pure and tortured by what she’d seen. Her eyes held no mask up, and her vulnerable openness as well as her thoughtless bravery only made her all the more ravishing as he carried her, lightly breathing, trusting him who would kill her, back inside where he would take her into his room and love her back to life. This would be the culmination of the blackening and the movement into the phase known as white, and it wouldn’t end there, and if she endured she would rise once again in full splendor as the herald of the dawn, his beloved Ambrosia, food for the gods, the gods who eat sweet light. The darkness, even the darkness couldn’t taint her purity, it only made her deeper,
like the ocean, only sadder the further down you would go to find her, sadder and deeper and further down into her he would go and he would lift her, his precious flower, as the luminous holder of all grief, as the sacrificial lamb of God. He would hold her up unto the eros of blue light until she hovered above him, sparkling as the Queen of hearts. Purity comes from dying into a light beyond yourself. Something greater than the spiders that eat us in black, something more fragile than the naked, white child Azalea, something deeper than the loss of innocence, is the only something I can call God inside your eyes of salient blue. Diamond, you are my soul beyond dying, I have only you to kill into me, the bewitching thing that never dies, the lifeless fairy floating in the water is me, my eternal love calling for you, my siren song. I would lose my wings and drown for you to breathe into me again. Dark Sun, I shall not perish as long as you hold me, the dying angel into your mystical light.

and so deep into the moon of night they would go together to touch the face of each other’s sorcery…

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I’m going to write something so beautiful for you, you will break open your body looking for my voice, hoping your soul has heard me making love to this body of tears and dream rain. And if your soul still hasn’t heard, I will tear you open myself looking for the one who calls, pretending they haven’t heard my lips moving from the sun into the moon. Blue Eros, beams of torment is the light without you in it. So I’m going to write these words somehow until you lift your eyes with only me above you. As everything, even God. I don’t mean to be selfish but I’m taking you home with me, back to the holy star. Soul, you stir mine like a rainbow buried inside a dove. Soul, you bury mine like a black piece of electrical mourning. Soul, I want it all, the erotic semblance of touching empty into eyes that feel, the consequences of these words. Me, I might see me then if I try. I’m dying for love and there’s life inside this body of rapture. Soul it’s this sacrifice of me that kills the pain of without you. I would try with my words to tie you to me as the earth is tied to it’s rocks. I’m saying you can never go. Heavy soul, I love the pain that makes you warm and misty. Nothing as free as light but as captive to me as my heart is to my lonely body. I’ve done this for you. Beloved prisoner of me, soul who bleeds my light.

I suffer to know you.
Sharada Devi

THE WHITE HORSE part 28

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He said to me, “Where do you come from?” And I said, “From the stars, from the candle, the candle of God that drips into a constellation deeper than her blackest night. My star will find you there.”

I called into the light as if he were the shadow rocking me back to sleep…then,

I had a vision of a little girl and my head was coming out of her mouth. What do you think that means? It might mean I’m dead and she took over this lyric…

Before he takes away he gives and gives. Anything that I might want and also anything that I may have forgotten… so my death was more like a birth, the opposite of weightless. He’s tired but he leaves in the night when I’ve finally stopped shining and he makes her take the scars into the daylight without him. But he never really leaves….she’d imagined he didn’t want to face what he’d done. He didn’t want her to see who he was. He wanted only to hold her, to smother her in his tears of regret. Regret he had to go away, forgetting her one more time.

Bringing diamonds, it is she who swallowed his eyes and waited for his collapse. “We’ll see now how the sun rises.” She said shining deep into the midnight sky. Your job is to sit there and to live and to breathe. The problem is he lost his breath. I change my mind very quickly just like the moon changes eyes. He doesn’t leave the one who left him, he gets inside her eyes, he crawls right in crying. I knew he was a long hot storm. I knew he was a quiet one dying to go home. It’s only words that make everyone matter. Gravity in your head, sad goodbye. I miss anything I leave even heartache…

“But someone’s got to go.” You said opening your eyes. Your chances are over, way over the rainbow of his heart, left dying as a fusion into you, born in his head a new kingdom. There’s a lot of air. A lot of ways to look at things, dying or being born. Kiss my eyes that’s all I want. Kiss my eyes. Let me see you in them breathing, me like the light of you, you remembered, the tears of my diamonds. At this stage it would bring the unhappy into your heart, and who ever goes to Krishna anyway…I saw the knife when I could not find a friend. “I love you.” Said the blade as it tore, open the wound that already gave, him a blowjob, him a best friend…”This will be a long goodbye.” I thought when I knew he had weapons that killed and not just a flute or a flower that drank up the voice in his head that said maybe she’s a trap. A paradise trapped in sin, eagles as wide as a guilty death. I sang the night off drunkly because I didn’t care. I was his.

The only feeling left was me actually. Pain isn’t even a word to be honest, it’s the loss of control you couldn’t face. Her moment of you. When the seed dropped. I couldn’t figure out what you wanted until I looked into your eyes. Me orgone as a sunspot, fucking outer space like a demon who forgot where the animal hid, looking for you. Seed all over my face. Breath, life giver, lover, angry thread. I grew you before you knew me. I made you rise and move into this night. Me who brings it all back, wave after wave, screaming hot body of stars, cut up like paper on the floor of your room, the long slow goodbye, entering more of me. I touch myself and pretend it’s you. I touch myself and I wonder, is it real? Dying is so depressing, why won’t you quit lying to yourself.

She isn’t there, death is in the wind and nobody turned around. Pretend you aren’t in me, liar. It’s my wind. I know everything. I am the one you touch until you break and the sky falls, seeds from heaven like death are all over my face. Eyes into me.

We went to this house where they were having a happy face party, trillions of swollen happy faces everywhere, it was disgusting. All the lust in their smiling eyes, the morbid calculations. Pornographic mind drip. It’s a true story, I took some pictures for proof just to be safe and we left…smiles, ourselves filthy clashes of lines looking for a soft spot. I know it’s not just me. Mind warp dead fucker ghost. Quit eating everything and lying.

“Just touch it.” You said, “It likes you.” So I did the only thing left to do, I drew a happy face on the tip and waited for it to explode in a big, loud smile of course. Blood all over the house, happy faces of me, blowing fuses until all the lights died, even you. That’s my candlelight, wax figures, that’s the trouble with all the things that lie to get what they want. It’s not a word liar, I’m a thing and I suck like a brain. Yes. Feed me, whatever I wrote would be fine. Fuck your cold balloon. Krishna Keshava Pahimam.

What can you do, you did the right thing, now you’ll explode like wildfire…wildflowers.

Whatever. Everywhere I reign supreme. You can’t tell her to stop because she can’t hear you. Remember my tears, diamond fury. I keep changing bodies. You’re the one who pisses me off and I go off like a volcano, or was that you…I’m on top regardless, until everything dies and every body stops moving, even air. Whatever, nothing lasts forever oh, I forgot. They say diamonds do…but I’m going to hurt you much better than that, the shine.

Everywhere I go, wtf did you just say?
That’s me. Diamond Moon rapture,

Send her? Where would we send her? Yes you’re a liar and you’re going to pay with your life. He responds by stopping me or by hunting and it’s all useless striving. My love is that kingdom you thought up in your head. I’m all yours now, remember? You said, be mine. All night and I did.
I have to end somewhere…it’s not another poem. I kiss the ground for you. Every time I go down looking for the heaven I left somehow spangled in stars that collide, nasty sheep always counting heads and never getting it right, go back to sleep, nobody cares. She’s unfit for human consumption anyway…

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I thought I had died. I stopped eating, I wouldn’t drink, I didn’t move or talk. My eyes were blindfolded and I didn’t care. The darkness came and took me back, I’m dead and they don’t matter. There was no night or day. Enki tried to carry my body into bathe it and he dropped me so I bit him, it was the only sharp thing I had, my teeth and he deserved it. That was the last thing I did, my corpse bit the snake’s body. He yelled as I bit and he swatted at me like I was a fly. That’s what I felt anyway, that I was a dead fly.

I stopped moving anything after my last revenge, and I became dead weight for him, the Dark Sun who followed me everywhere watching in my head, in my heart, always there behind me observing how the darkness eats dead bodies, mine and how the pain was only a wave that didn’t matter once the big one took you. I didn’t scream I only sank deeper and deeper, my death where I fell. I lost my love, he had nothing for me just another fitful snake to tunnel through my invisible hole. I need nothing. And I stayed like this and I was fine while I faded into the images that had eaten me. My father, all of it. My grandma who I had betrayed, who I would never see again, my mother who was only a bird and myself who was nothing but the feathers of them all. I don’t know how much time passes, there was no day and night there was just this tunnel where everything had hid until now. Why would I bother you with my graphic nightmare, hell images, it’s all futile, this emptiness killing itself in the only song and dance it knows, my worthless hollow body too dead to hear you anyway, too dead to reach for the light, too numb to feel his protection surround me while I surrendered to the ghosts of my own private hell. I was very weak and soon would be leaving even the sound of his breath. I must let go of it all and this was my only though as he sat watching and although I knew he heard and he saw everything within me, I stopped talking, thinking, nothing left to give. I just hung blind and limp from the bed. I guess that was all he wanted. To watch me die and go dump me in the swamp with the dead floating fairy. I remembered his eyes even then, he killed me but this love would always haunt me. The confusion of what it meant or was, the unfulfilled desire, all gone and my breath only grew weaker.

I was whimpering for the God of death at this juncture, it might have been weeks, when I saw all the hidden animals of the forest coming towards me from out of the shadows with big bloody fangs being led by the blood drinking spider lady covered in wasps and my sweet, pale pink flower Azalea was holding her sticky, wicked hand as a swarm of flies formed a black, buzzing cloud around us all. They were both laughing at me and pointing at my limp, transparent corpse. I, not even proud enough to be dead, but just stuck, defying the peace of death, in the invisible stained jar of my mother. When suddenly I heard myself cry out into the room, the first sound I’d made since biting Enki, “Pan…” actually, I whimpered, not even able to cry, “Where are you?” And I felt tears all over me like hot, salty water as my body was submerged into the final fever. “Ceres, is that you?” I called inside my feverish head, to a cloudy white light as it hovered. “Grandma..?” I gurgled into the filament blackness, bewildered by the old lady who died in her sleep that fateful night, now just a ghost haunting me in this bleak, telling tunnel. The lies I kept telling, it all seemed so real. I was burning for it now and this must be the devil’s fire. I accepted the flames and as I became hotter and hotter I began gasping for air, losing breath. I barely fought for the light, I was going to leave you all behind. And as it finally grew even too dim to see, there in my head a bright light broke forth and from the center of a five pointed black star I saw his emerging diamond eyes, the Dark Sun flaming brightly, intensely pushing into mine. I said as a final goodbye to him then, straight into his mind unafraid and I said with certainty, “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough. I will always love you. Please find me again.” It was then that I passed into the kaleidoscope’s throat at full throttle, with the out breath I went, breathless, dead to my life. There was a pull, an arm of dark gravity that just wouldn’t let me go and as I spun, inside some large sharp star, “Let me go, it’s over.” I thought fading into a blur of dim memory…and just as the blade of the fifth arm was approaching, I heard him yell, from his world, not mine, “Enki! Bring me ice and water. Come!” The next thing I knew I was blanketed in ice and freezing. My heart slowed down from the speed of thumping in my throat. I felt his hand untying the blindfold, I felt him lifting my body, I felt him carry me. I heard him whisper into my ear, his warm lips I felt inside my failing heart, “It’s all over, the past, it’s all gone.” His body was so strong and mine was so weak. What had he done to me, watching me die, was he taking me to the swamp? I lie collapsed, skin and bone in his arms as he carried me like a child who weighed nothing. Through the Loom, I never opened my eyes I just listened to his heart and his breath, I just felt his love pulling me from out of the deep hell I had fallen. I was shaking and cold and then…I heard him breath in the light….I felt the sun shine upon my dying…

I inhaled like it was a miracle and then I magically began breathing again as if our bodies had become one beneath the sun. He was still carrying me somewhere, it was warm outside and I heard birds and the sound of the river. “Ambrosia.” He whispered into my ear, “Open your eyes.”I had to obey him, and so I slightly opened my eyes and then more, until I saw through the disappearance of my death haze, a large, fertile tree next to a flowing stream of silver water, the tree overflowing with giant red flowers hanging like starlight, the red sun shining through its limbs in beams of golden pink, the birds sung from it’s branches as the perfume of flowers filled the sky and he said, “Ambrosia I brought you here.” And there to my shocking joy, standing beneath the tree wrapped neck and neck suspended in mystical love were Ceres and Pan gazing like gods in my direction. I began shivering in my desperate love for these creatures. I wanted to jump from his arms where I lay draped like a dead flower and run to them, but I couldn’t because I was too weak to move. He whispered into my ear, “Don’t try to move. I’ll take you.” As he carried me over I could hear Pan snorting and feel the light grace of Ceres and as we approached the tree and he laid me down beneath it on a blanket of soft, cool red flowers mixed with crackling leaves, I was flooded with indescribable bliss as he knelt over and wiped the wet hair out of my face, looking decidedly into my eyes he stared as if he himself were the daylight, and he smiled at me. Not a smile as if I were a joke, a smile as if he were my friend. And I smiled back as I exhaled into his sapphire blue eyes. Then I heard him silently whisper into my soul as he took both my lifeless hands and kneeling over my naked wet, skeletal body he told me, “Give me everything. Your pain lives in me and I will hold you as my perfect flower until the end of time.” And as he said this a wave of light washed over me and I became filled with him as if we made love in that moment with no bodies at all. “My soul.” He tenderly said in the silence as he swam into my eyes as tears and he never let me die. As all the shadows left and the memories disappeared. Until there was only his soft smiling watery eyes under the red tree where I drained into the earth like the rain so that other things could grow. I heard a snort, I felt her mother heart as Pan and Ceres stood above us and our souls became as one. I was overcome with love. His love as he moved away and sat beneath the distant sun watching me as the light slowly faded and I was engulfed in both the black stallion and the white horse of God who lay on either side of me swooning into the promise of twilight. I couldn’t yet move but I touched Pan’s body, taut with electrical fury and power, I felt him nudge me and rest his chin on my chest infusing me with his indomitable spirit of courage as Ceres lay on the other side spreading light over my fading disease. The poison he conjured and brought to the surface, the poison of me he then drank as his own. Ceres motherly essence gave me strength from the depths of pure, untainted light. I felt her concern and I heard her say to me inside my mind, “Dear girl, the blackening is over. You will not die. Initiation brings the dawn. And as the light secretly rises, Venus begins to shine.” I barely remembered, but for some reason, the twelve moons were floating in my mind, and as she read my thoughts she answered, “The twelve moons are the storytellers of the entire sky. If you listen you will know and the child Azalea and the wicked woman of wasps are merely the semblance of the broken moons within you.” I really didn’t understand logically what she had said but deep in my heart the pieces were fitting. I was entwined in these horses with the Dark Sun overseeing it all, and as I lie breathing in the flowers beneath the warmth of the sun I heard Pan in my head as imagery, which is how he always talked to me.  I leaned back against his strong, warm body and listened to his thunderous heart as he showed me an image of myself as black as his heavenly body and as gold as the risen sun, riding him into the tunnel of death with no fear at all. I sighed and said silently, “I love you Pan.” As he snorted and fumbled lovingly with my hair.

I felt him, the Dark Sun, as he watched me from not too far away. I felt him circulating inside of me as a new sea of water and light. Strength, protection from the demon who stings. I could smell his cool neck like a tree covering my fading white body, and even on the brink of my death, as weak as I was, after seeing his diamond light eyes, I only wanted him inside of me as fire and fury, because I knew now what I did not know before. Some things never change…his eyes in my soul seeing without any pictures or words, seeing me like nobody else ever did. With no face at all he knew my heart like it was a song that was perfect just as it was. Like he alone could grow flowers from fear and turn my pain into moons that stop spinning. “I need you.” I said into the light.

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I am a collapsible body of living white light. Imperishable, shining from the center of the angel star. Moon circle drawn in bleeding spider webs and little girl rain drops, someone is certain to know where I left you, finally at the end of the well rounded fuck. Round and hopeless, just another fantasy goddess. Dark, dressed as sexual doom bringing lips of awakening, always the one who must carry the tilted black sword. But it’s tiring, being a man in a dress with a dick that outlasts even my kindest of plungings. It’s a loop, a lonely hole of pretend. You’re just a paper weight or paper shredder trying to read what doesn’t matter anyway, we’ll all go with fear as our mistress, she’s the slut, she’s the liar. I don’t play roles or put on heavenly faces. I am trickery laced with God’s perfect knowing, you. I am a slender oracle fallen to earth as the one causing trouble, heartache for those who still have one. I’m just paper drawing words on itself for you as eyes turning inward looking at the sun. In charge, controlling you all as the orange, wounded flowers needing sunlight and a mother who knows where the pain goes once it’s swallowed and no one can find you but me. My stomach. It’s me, not a dream but a sacrament. Immortal I rise unprotected letting everyone in as a spectator of my grief. My grief that you’re not real but a dreamer baby, dreaming me whether to love or to hate your new mommy. Nothing new ever happens just this song, the slow burn of the loneliest song of all. My song. The beauty of my reaching tears as words, goes unnoticed but by God and always has…

You just want to fuck me like a demon who can’t find his eyes. I am not a dream fantasy fetish,

I’m not a snakepit of romance and I’m not the little lost lamb of your God. That’s all. So who are you and we, without each other? And it’s not “her” it’s nobody, all playing someone with my eyes for you and your unheard tears. Your song written in my heart is divine, the sound of me inside you seeing myself in your eyes of blue mirror. Mine goes unnoticed unheard, you should listen where it’s too deep in the outside song to be as loud as I pretend it to be, just for you. But by me, the you who kisses stars back to life from the brink of dull suicide, I stand alone spinning out frail flowers like the perfect heat of breath because of this summer of love I can’t leave while you’re still hurting in the shallow moon water…deeply I shall go, I shall dive into your blue mirror pool and sing your song for you, back to you, my halo has risen from out of nowhere into our love called nobody. White light. Halo, I hold you always up high. A jewel of heaven much higher than me, you are my hidden sunlight, my very becoming, my treacherous journey away from my star splattered home in the sky far away….won’t you find me hidden inside of your heart waiting to know I’ve been heard? Tears are where all rain comes from and why the pale precious moon flower grows between us as more than me all alone. Unseen. Felt only as yearning for invisible entrances into places holding lonely shadow songs. No words can dry the light that falls looking for the seed. My flower god,

she is not a dream, she is the birth of dreams.

Sharada Devi

butterfly pain 🦋

Butterfly pain. I’ve seen this. I’m sorry I’ve got no story today. I went into a house with dying sick dirty old people. They were watching a preacher on tv and they had a 16 year old dog who peed all over their rugs. The implication of this has me feeling lost, in a grief unbound by the simplicity of loss, no something darker. Our own inner floor? I hope not. Let’s not wait until tomorrow to vacuum anymore ok? Let’s not leave food on counters and mold in our toilets. These things all grow while we die and in the end we lose to them. Yes I’m morbid, dark, perverted, defiant and exposed. Yes I have no cover to hide under. No I didn’t see it coming. I thought of all of you and I sent some songs and it’s because the pain hurts worse when you bury it in dirty dish towels than if you’d just take a stand now, for the sake of us all. I am dying and so are you. We might get this straight if we stop ignoring the old man in the wheelchair and the old lady who smells like bad bread and if we just love somebody fast and hard, not soft in all the wrong places and ways.
This is life and it’s a desperate burden that we carry, to be brave and determined, to accept our untainted love as it rises against every beating of the fist. Why won’t you believe in this blindsided love? Stop hurting yourself you’ll end up a cripple all curled up and drooling sitting on a dark couch in a dark room that smells like death waiting to die. Don’t miss me, don’t turn away. Don’t eat any more flies. Please be a believer in
the butterfly who blows and spins on the wind she pretends to ride. We all know the wind rides her like God rides us while we go nowhere. Why have you done this? Now God lies shriveled on the floor, a mangy blind cat, a bitch who can’t spell, a man with no ribcage, an unopened gift of more. Please live and stop dying, I can’t take it anymore. The stench of rotting old people, children wearing condoms, ugly breath going down on me. I suffocate and call it prayer. What can I do but beg you to love me? Who is this person watching life die? All around inside the circle of me trying to see the light I can’t hide…the light. Looking deeper than sight. And it doesn’t matter where I go, it’s all bearing itself to me, flashes of pain, unirrigated. Flashes of a darkness even I can’t see, the darkness is darkness period. Opaque. Unquestioned subservience to the rotting, acceptance of the disease, feet you don’t use, hands that touch no one. Well I can’t be that. I can’t die unloved by me, then this light reaches out from your eyes and I think I struck gold. Riches I found in you and it’s rare that money isn’t everything or anything that we count or can count on. It’s just this priceless, precious definition of you that goes without saying- where the day comes from when we rise into the sun all burned up and shining because the light was, the truth was, we didn’t need to rot, we needed to feel the filth and love her light all over the place. We only needed to see each other. Clear light. This is all I ever wanted to say. I can’t bear the suffering of the daily funerals and medications that invite helldogs to ravage the trash cans at night looking for you as a snack or a cheap drink of sex…I don’t even make any sense. They’re all dying and rotting and there are no cocoons in sight. How are butterflies made? Pain. Terrible heavy pain that swam into the light to find her and then she grew wings and let his light touch her dark and that love of their touch began to swirl and paint the sky with your butterfly heart. Free and breathing to life the great flower that flies like a kiss, crying the love sky to death. My only prayer is for more tears that look like you. Tears that make butterflies out of pain. More butterflies everywhere spawning…my poem of this tragedy is unwritten, my words live in disguise, crying I come and crying I go into you all over again, making moons weep me into their light like that song…dog and butterfly, you know she had to try….Sharada Devi

THE WHITE HORSE part 27

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“I am it.” Said the body that was spread all over the floor. You thought you were the lover, it was me. Making love to the earth, it’s harsh summer flower, the reality of sky upon the water. Earth below my very body, “Touch me.” Said the snake and I said, “Do it yourself.” I had to be the one furiously mad for your, tempted. God water on my tapestry, a heavy hand, laying out the law. First I was good and then I was bad and God saw everything and basically got mad. Jealous of the snake I touched. Tempted to go all the way. I said, “You can’t stay snake eyes.” God saw. A terribly vicious thought of me said, “I’ve got something crawling up my back, is it you?” They’re quiet, they’re super quiet so you don’t see what’s happening until it’s too late. Don’t you love me? I never stopped climbing, vines into the super skyway of you, eye smoke. Dry river bed, the wet water follows me begging for holes so it can live again, and I said, “How do you know I’m the one?” Bird. I named you the light because I knew wings went further than spines up the water God wants. I planned that. I swam the earth searching for feathers. God tempted the snake who grew because of you deep in it’s channels. That little talking snake fucks with me every time. Beloved why do you have to go all the time back to her? She implanted us with brainwaves and she blew evil storms. She fondled lifeless bodies and she stole the heart of even God, the father who grows fruit trees everywhere just for her. Winding up my tree, this vine of seduction. I’m every man’s dream, and all the wild animals know it, and still the horse runs faster than the light you brought to this mirage. Dead pan. Feet on the wall. He keeps saying I’m more special than any party, dry wine, dry humping, you name it. I’m better because I’m wet like the rain nobody heard falling on the holy roof. This love is for real. This thought is a demon. This house is on fire. This day is over. Night. Smile. Water body. Swim to me instead. I do this in the middle of the night, write the words that no one wants. I’m no one. Will you still love me in the morning when the sky dries up and the fruit, no longer forbidden? I have feelings too and they’re oceans, oceans with waves that kill those who leave me stranded on the telomere shore. This is you, this is all your doing, hidden serpent. The threat of bodies with no bones, the abandoned skin of summer months, the flower nobody wanted. Pink and edgeless pentagram, five sided flower of magic, so easy to cast, my spell on you through the water. Earth roots, but instead nothing fell, no sky, no fruits, no heavy handed sexy thunder. Nobody. Nothing. Spit in a bottle, cheap beer, a birthday card that says, “Happy new day,” But you’re gone, that thump in the night that made me think I was haunted. I’ll play the part, I’ll let you find me on the ground under a tree praying for fruit and rain to fall like daylight from out of your wordless mouth. A great song stirred in the wind, like a ghost tornado, I was forming. “This is the end of wordrthless things that don’t love back.” Said the pretend God I’d made as if he were a snowman, since everything froze but me. Dangling from a branch, he led me to ruin and everyone just called me a dick sucker which wasn’t even fair. My love went everywhere. He just caught it better that’s all. Stupid, the whole charade, mirage, oasis, whatever, it’s dumb. Speechless even. I never touched a thing, I don’t want to get sick with love. Pretend it’s love and I will pretend it’s you. Just for the sake of our story. I would like to make sure I’m still alive if you don’t mind me asking your name? Please answer into the camera. It’s fast and effortless, anything you want. I didn’t even drink half a glass and still I was infected with you. No offense everyone saw what you’d done without even trying, and yet we all pretended it was her. Me and this fruit. Everyone saw and everyone knows I’m real, I was here first and nothing tempts me but you. Snake eyes. Baby blue slits, you’re the one who brought down the house. Earth my body unwinds into the ground and like a corkscrew takes care of you. Yes yes yes only me ever, the dream that pushes back even deeper, even bigger than yours. We all knew I carried a gun.

Tempted now?

Something big is going to happen. Everyone saw it happen, the blood fire. Clean your heart. I would love the bird to fly but I’m not sitting around twenty four hours a day watching him. My mother is a dead raven remember? An earth drum pounds as he approaches, wings spread across the sky. No more words. Maybe I am evil, I don’t know, I’ll let you decide. Dark tree tower. I’m susceptible to you. Me spelled backwards. My quiet magic. Death my bride. It was only for at that moment when our paths crossed in the night that I found out it was me inside of you, tempted like I always am, to eat everything in sight.

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Well maybe by now you’re tired of hearing my story and I’m tired of telling it. Nobody listens anyway because they still think they’re in charge. It’s not a story to pity me by or compare your lesser demon to mine. It’s everything from words to eyes to hateful hearts that burn with indescribable passion. A sword undirected cuts everyone up, a whip bites even the sun. As high as that we should go looking through this night vision of none other than the beloved, the beloved who tied me to the bed and the beloved who was tied there. I’m tired of explaining myself, this isn’t a therapy session for yours truly. I’m not all fucked up in the head. Am I fucking with your head, of course. That’s my message, stop trying to figure it, me, out and stop judging. Just go, and worry about tomorrow later…as if tomorrow is even coming…I certainly didn’t think so and let me remind you, I’m not a menu, if you’re bored or sick, eat somewhere else…

Anyway, I got tied up and I hate you all. Enki, in my opinion is a wicked, sadistic, little worm and the first chance I get my hands on a sharp object I will gut that glorified caterpillar with joy. At first I liked him, you know in the beginning the sexy, smooth snake, but now he’s just annoying, and as far as I can tell even more in love with big daddy Master than I am. Believe me, they can tie me up, pity me, dry off my blood, whatever, but trust me when I say, I’ve got eyes too and I’m not the queen pervert here. There are others, all of them, mind reading, sadistic, hard up perverts and who knows what they’re all doing when the lights go out. Well, I know what I did, nothing. I was tied tight. No candles were lit, only the fireplace by a fairy who didn’t say a word. And he would come into my room and sit in his big doctor chair and just stare as if I were a specimen. I would ask questions and just get ignored. He sat for hours staring. More than anything, I wanted to hate him and in the deep night when I was lonely and thought of his selfish lips I could hate him then, I really could. He kept me tied in the dark room, one bath a day by the quiet fairy who wasn’t as pretty as the others, one glass of water and some dry bread. I got thinner, angrier, more pale on the outside and darker on the inside. He told Enki to give me a mirror as well, a little stupid hand held mirror so I could, “Watch myself think.” Insanity. Some hours, some moments I gave up on it all, my pain, my shame, my desire to be seized by his legs around mine, my grandma and her love, ever seeing Ceres again, my beloved fearless Pan, all of it. He just sat staring like some lonely person watching the shore as the tide goes in and out. I yelled at him a lot, sometimes he would smile to himself as if I were a joke. It was so easy to hate him. I really loved him. I couldn’t stand myself and especially him, “What is wrong with you?!” “Let me go you vampire pervert!” “You look like my father you crazy child fucker!” “Please let me go master I’ll do anything you want.” “I’m hungry. I can’t see. I’m dying. I need water.” And on and on I went while he sat quietly watching me. “Something is deeply wrong with him.” I thought. “I mean, obviously I have some issues but this guy is a morbid freak.” I knew he heard my thoughts so I thought really hard about my hate for him, anything bad I could and would do, fucking him to death in his animal mask, whatever might stir him. I visualized and I thought really hard. Still nothing. I avoided looking into the stupid mirror too, until one day I was so overwrought I began to semi hallucinate that my body was transforming into various distorted creatures which wouldn’t have been so bad had they all not had blood and maggots coming out of their mouths and were they not all screaming bloody murder into me as black devil flies filled their hollow, bored out eye sockets. So, naturally I got really scared and began poking at my face looking for blood and bugs. Panicked I grabbed the mirror and as I desperately looked into it searching, I screamed and dropped it, it shattered into mirrored slivers all over the death black floor. Because let me tell you, I was not only dead, I no longer existed. Do you hear me now? There was no me in the mirror! There was no one looking back! I couldn’t find anything! Gone, I was gone, straight into his invisible hell! I began beating at my arms and legs feeling for pain, I felt nothing. I saw nobody and I felt nothing. I can’t describe the shock. I began screaming and tearing at my eyes and my hair. “I’ve become him! I’ve become him!” My father! I thought I had ran far enough away to be free, flown high enough into the trees to escape, but I didn’t, and now I’m eclipsed by some great evil that I can’t even see. Surely I have gone to hell with all the other defiled creatures that nobody wants, that nobody sees but me. I have left myself, I’ve drained into this death of all deaths, and have only his invisible face eating me! “Help me! Please help me!” I was clawing at my skin and had begun bleeding which was somewhat of a relief, but my heart was still pounding and the mirror was still shattered and I was still lost underground, in bondage with no face, only his demon erasing me over and over again. I was beside myself thrashing and slamming myself against the bed like a wild, demented snake when suddenly I felt his hand firm on my arm. “Enki!”He called and Enki appeared. “Hold her down.” He said and Enki did. He then proceeded to blindfold me as if things weren’t dark enough. Then, he had Enki tie both my arms securely to the bed so I could no longer hurt myself, until now, only my legs had been bound. I was heaving wildly and screaming at the top of my lungs until I heard him whisper very closely into my ear, “Shhhhh” and instantly I stopped and could breathe again. “Get her some water.” He told Enki and Enki got the water. He sat there next to me and slowly poured water into my mouth like I was a baby bird gasping for life. He gently wiped off the blood from where I had scratched myself and he just sat there so close I could hear him breathing. I still begged and pleaded to be released or at least given a little light and he still did not respond to me, he just sat in the silence of my darkness and he never moved. Inside the black of the blindfold all sorts of memories arose as if I had died. I know when you die your life flashes before your eyes and this is what happened to me. I saw everything my mother, my grandmother, everything…but for some reason I just kept seeing my father and his invisible face, his invisible hands touching me in my invisible places, his mean, invisible snake and the way I grew to sometimes yearn for it. I hated myself more than I hated him. My invisible feelings and in the blinding darkness, the greatest, most vivid horror was, that none of it was invisible anymore. I had these eyes inside and I watched it all. His sweaty body, my yearning, lustful heart…it’s just too much to tell you how confusing this was, how filthy I am. I tempt every man who ever knew me, even my own father and I deserve it and what’s worse, hardest to face in the mirror where I don’t even exist, is the evil pleasure I got from it all, the power from inside the pain, the plunge into hell, the relentless penetration, the cruelty, the death wish urge to be one with God the father. I am very confused by God and his feelings for me. I am suffering and I’ve disappeared. As the hot tears flowed I drown in a grief too mysterious to define. A love too ugly to convince you it’s real, a hole too bright to shine without you. “Who are you?” I thought frantically looking for some sort of ground, hoping he would answer me but he didn’t, he just sat there while it all played out inside of me. The rage, the poisonous sexual eruptions, the searching into the disappearance. All the masks and candles of me that flickered. “I dreamed it all.” I thought as I finally, fitfully, collapsed into a strange, deep sleep.

He sat there in the darkness watching her frail body sleeping, lines of dried blood covered her abdomen, back and thighs. He had known all along that she would be a handful. Even that night they had dinner he had planned on being civil, answering questions, sedating her and going from there. But such was the chemistry between them that peace wasn’t possible, only turbulence and the resultant volatile passion. He found everything about her irresistible even her anger, even her skinny, stained body. He found her spirit indomitable, and for the same reason he chose Pan as his horse, he would choose her as his queen once the midnight sunrise came and their union was consummated in the ashes of the black fire. His heart covered her pain like a blanket. He saw and felt everything she saw and felt. The little, innocent girl, so fragile like a tiny, pale pink flower raped by a father who knew nothing else. And the terror that follows a night beneath him, is the same terror that wakes her up wanting more. The roots of all sorcery are in the harnessing of sexual fury whether in darkness or in light. It is the power of the witch who comes to term with her own darkness, making love to the black, she becomes as pure as the white. Yes, it’s treacherous and he knew that. Misunderstood most of all. Death covers the eyes of all enchanted lovers and nobody sees anybody’s face but their own. As he sat there pondering her soft face as she slept, relieved that she had been taken from her pain by the solace of sleep, he leaned over her pale body and very lightly, so as not to wake her, stroked her tangled, golden hair, then invisibly he caressed her cheek, “My heavenly child, just like silk.” He sighed into the deep silence, as a tear fell from his eye onto her angelic face. “Our hearts have never been separate.” He whispered to her as he watched her purr from his touch and curl gently and safely into his fatherly hand.

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Are there certain things I shouldn’t say? A certain darkness I should not define? And although it’s me, should I pretend it’s you? You only want my shadow, a dweller too deep to know unless I go with you and we grow our flowers together on the grave of this demon. My everything is your home. There is nothing to see but that. There is nowhere to go but with me into you as deep as the dark ride goes. Way below anything anyone ever said to make you doubt your knowing. This is Venus the diamond, I give you my light through your heart. Cutting deeply. So deeply you’ll finally hear me calling your name. It’s final, its fatal this attraction to God. In between us, where the only immortal flower grows. Rose colored moon, you should tell me everything…about your flower…

because my tears of moonlight hear you. Sharada Devi

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THE WHITE HORSE part 26

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She carries a voice of screams and from out of her left hand come a hundred wolves. She has her red face on and the horns mean someone just might die. Someone just might come and it’s her holding a bloody heart in her hand. I’m not kidding and I bet you’re still trying to figure this one out, the unstoppable one, I mean. The screamer.

Shadow lark, a sweet smelling bird, hungry, harmless hopping home. Sweet twisted little wings and I bet you’re a singer too. Don’t try to figure this one out, she’s a killer. Bound to the storm. Little bird hurry home…scurry even like a rodent would because now the owls are coming..

Horns are the scariest one. Horns don’t scream, they stay quiet. I never heard a thing until it was too late. Nothing could stop her. My voice in her head begging for more…

And so you brought this all upon yourself in the throat of many gifted birds, anything winged that you thought could lift you from his darkness, a bright red animal that could kill anything harder than could kill it, Ah, I know you.

How about I don’t say a word and you die trying to find me? And even though my claws are in your back you’re still looking down at the dim world you left, my mouth dripping all over your head.

You’re stupid if you didn’t think this was death. Because it is, redemption without you even knowing. Of course you can’t fight back, you’re little and I’m big. The first thing I’ve eaten in months without a disease. Meat harvest, throne sucking horned bird. Red dogs, hot blooded owls. Strikes that blow, wind that shivers. She’s your big face in the sky looking back, little moon death.

You will always be beneath me until you die. Screaming her name. Which is me, unstoppable and quiet. A very slow killer…indeed, you’ll be begging for something you don’t even want.

Death while dying. Redemption all because of me and my blood lust, hunger for winged little gods. I’m big. I’m so big you can’t even see me in your mouth pulling the inside out.

A sky filled with shadow, horns and bird bones. Red wings and a final prayer carcass.

Too late. I catch anything that shows any sign of life, squirming in my jaws, claws. Owl shining.

And after you die, you’ll still be beneath me until you end up in my stomach with everyone else.

Radiant, this voice of mine who knows everything. Before it even happens. Owl shining, one eyed goddess of everything I just said. You’ll never understand the one whose got you hooked. I’m too big, and you’re little like a baby bird germ.

Quietly I’ve been watching you hunt me. I find it fascinating how tiny you really are, like a drop of lust in a body bag covered in red feathers.

I fill the sky, you’ll never find me, I’m too big. I’m everywhere feeding you myself.

Word.

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And outside night was ending as we laughed until the dawn. Enki rolling on the floor, slithering at times to the sound of who he really was. And I was drunk on an elixir of a wine, more like a truth serum, all of it rooted in me as the explosion of sexuality with no name or shame as small as mine. Do you know me? You’ll probably say no, more laughter. The glorious red faced wolf with horns, naked, of course it had always been me. We stayed like this for as long as the mask stayed alive, worn by me. I danced naked in the mirror because I’m a witch and I knew he was watching. “I’ve got him under my spell.” I kept thinking and I became more and more seductive. Touching myself in various ways and exposing the parts I thought he might want. Into the mirror, oh yes. I made love into the mirror, all by myself while he watched and I screamed all over the nasty, hard floor. Enki was background noise, that’s all. Simply a snake behind me moaning and groveling, begging for a cut or a bite, or a squeeze into me but I’d have none of it, mine was the mirror into his bleeding eyes. Life dripping all over the floor I was sure. “I am the one.” I yelled defiantly into the gore of phantasm, “I will always be the one and you will always worship me as the one who makes you move.”  I bent over in front of the mirror exposing my back side and whispered, “Isn’t this what you want.” Then I broke out into deafening animal laughter once again and said like a viper into the image, inside out, of what it actually was, “Without me there is no you. Get out of the mirror and come try to take what you want, coward. Little dark man, make a move!” And I laid down and spread my legs in his face, his face that I knew was stuck in the mirror, declaring with absolute certainty, “It all comes out of me before it ever goes into you, little monster I’ll eat you before I make love to my very own food!” I was so intoxicated with myself that I too, began rolling on the floor, writhing and moaning in ecstasy of union with the big, shimmering snake. And we rolled and we smothered each other in screams and howls of moon laughter until Venus appeared I suppose, I didn’t see her and the sun may have soon been due to arrive. It’s not like it mattered I was locked inside a dark, dungeon basement and it was always dark without the fairies who lit the flames. But it all ended either way, this euphoric descent into the night shadows of madness, when I felt a foot step on my bare back and then the slash of a whip. A sting so sharp I began bleeding. “Get up.” He said with a seething venom. Immediately the spell was broken of me on me, the red wolf child in the mirror playing with her horns, and I looked up with confusion and horror because it hurt, the whip that brought true blood. It was him. He was staring down at me with a volcanic power I had never seen. It overwhelmed me. Instantly I was bound by the wrath of his erupting eyes and I obeyed, standing up, my slashed back bleeding. The laugher ended. Enki was silent standing in a darkened corner. “You’re pathetic” He hissed with disgust as he ripped off my mask. “A pathetic, horny little girl who now must be punished for playing with herself in front of daddy.” A molten snake throbbed at me from his pants, I’m not blind. I stood there, a total mess, blood dripping down my back. He walked around my limp, naked body, ran his finger through my blood then tasted it. Then he walked over to me, staring rabidly into my eyes with a look that I had not yet seen, and he stuck his bloody finger into my mouth forcing me to taste my own blood, then he pulled his finger out took some more blood dripping from my back, and he smeared the fresh blood all over my lips as he placed his mouth over mine and with his tongue he slowly licked off all the blood, my red life from my very own lips. I stood there spinning. I was so overcome by him I was dizzy, being suffocating, as dormant feelings of myself emerged from the bottom of time or death or of all that would rather have been forgotten, I had no idea, I was completely under his killer trance. The next thing I knew, with his mouth open and pressed against mine, I started shaking violently from the core of my body as he deeply inhaled all the stagnant air from my grieving lungs and I collapsed onto the cold floor, my head at his omniscient feet. And the most perverse part of all is that in this death trance brought on effortlessly, almost carelessly by him, I went into the deepest ecstasy you could imagine, breathless, dead at his feet, throbbing in orgasmic death blood. My own. He was becoming as poisonous as an addiction and it must have been the plan. All along I never knew until later what sex really was, or that the healing must be more lethal than the poison. “You’re a dirty little girl and you’ve done very bad things.” I heard him say this down to the floor where I laid breathless, still recovering from the fury of his trance. I looked up feeling the dreaded filth of my guilt and I started uncontrollably crying. I curled up in a naked, pitiful ball at his feet crying for the dawn, hot tears all over the shining, black marble floor. “I hate myself, I really do. I hate you too.” I thought as I sobbed seeing only the face of my drunk father. This was all too much to bare. This sorcerer had his finger in everything, pushing harder every time until I broke. Breaking me apart piece by piece. I was bleeding, cold, and naked at his feet nearly dead from exhaustion when he yelled into the room, “Enki, clean her up and get her to bed.” Then he bent down over my body and whispered into my ear very quietly, ” I’ll be back for more of you. You do belong to me, like a slave belongs to it’s master.” I could only whimper for his forgiveness as he swiftly stood up and left the room yelling out to Enki one last time, “Tie her up tightly Enki and make sure she’s clean.” “Yes master!” I heard him reply as he moved toward my worthless, lifeless body in memory of these laughing shadows. Looming over me like a bad dream I heard Enki’s voice, back to normal say, “Get in there and clean yourself up.” And without looking up or even saying a word I crawled to the bathing room and got in the water. Then I got out and dripping wet I crawled back into Enki. “What is wrong with you?” He snapped, “You can’t dry your own body off?” A moment later he was back drying my rack of a body with a rough towel. “You’ve gotten blood everywhere.” He said with disgust. And I felt the morning might come soon after all.

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The reign of another day, into the intrepid light I go…piece by piece. Every piece of me. Poison, do you still love me? Fatal. It’s all dead and numb. This bliss of bad things that destroy me in bones. Bone after bone, sleepless nights. Dreaming dreams of you stuck to my dirty wall, and I only wanted more, pain on the inside. Get it out ok? The places where I’ve felt germs crawl. Becoming as big as snakes swollen with mice, my desire for you never ceases. Numb ice, in my tears I found water, my salvation your reign. I have no idea where the shadows went once you left the room, “Nobody ever leaves.” She said laughing and spreading herself open to mirrors. They only go deeper because you push them and you cry out to them and you suck them into your night valley.

Well, either way, I want everything you have to give. Diseases of me, God pus, my orgasmic hell concubine. I’m beyond these walls and ceilings.
I’m beyond the flames cast by shadows that you will never see. I’m Drime’, stainless and pure. Daddy’s little heaven.

Sharada Devi

THE WHITE HORSE part 25

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Empty she cried dead and the shadow heard. Crimson, velvet, a long slow sigh. Exhale into me the endless drowning dreamscape. I never needed to breath, I only needed to feel alive. It doesn’t matter how, is the place she cried now. But nothing will happen and the gray day will come, a mounted cool body of homelessness, I left you long ago. I left you when the wind blew in my direction, a violet violent adjustment of my relapse, into the slumber of bones and I watched them all waving at me in the wind, broken feathers that nobody wanted. Each other felt nothing I guess and so this retraction didn’t stop them, any of them from pretending they were still amongst the living. But I hadn’t seen a thing, a warm heart or a blood cry, so I see nothing real, only the horror that I may have left already dead, your eyes in mine wandering the empty halls of my prosecution. There would be no use to look for me, dirty paper dead with flies. A piece of my soul floated by as if we even knew they existed and we all shuddered at it’s imposition. How could I make any of this up? And his words were never real any more than my blood dripped hallelujah. Of course I was silent, the wind was gone. I felt this must be deeper than a handshake or a low cut firmament. A fragment of peach colored inner thigh music. But I believe I may be wrong. You all think something whole has been discovered just because we dream of penetration by another. I put everything in my mouth and I always have. Like a puppy or a silly dog. I felt everything with my mouth, the taste of hunger’s grief and it only turned you on. But I myself, remained empty, floating searching for an anchor. The breach of another declaration, the unheard vow of forever in your pants shall I go, as deep as possible looking for some sort of promise of nubile light, some sort of whisper of radiant sound. Like a shaft of increased awakening. Mannequins touched me like they were alive, they dressed me in their clothes then they stripped me and raped me, eyeless born of a flash, a plastic flash and an accusation of goodbye. The retrieval of flesh from these bones is a metaphor for the valley of the shadow of death where you all tried to smother me in skin soft enough for fucking but hard enough for preserving the corpse. The one that never moves stuck in the display of how all of this left us stranded in a dark crack and humping the welts of another beaten slave whore, my child. So as you might figure, I never turned around or came back to pretend I’d stay just for you, another day. I do not cry for help or shoulders, I mourn for disembodied souls who pull slivers from my splintered spine, hoping I’m the one that could kiss them back to life.

And the silence I feel, the excruciating hollow of another fearless flower, is that I am all alone. I am all alone receding into the underground world of untouched seeds. When you thought you felt me you did not, you couldn’t reach far enough into that water to pull me back to life, you were more dead than I was and nobody could tell you otherwise. And that’s the shaft of light that struck an empty floor, this is the crowded version of me as well. You all wanted in and there was never an out. I put everything in my unopened mouth, because we’re dead don’t you hear me? Ghosts with naked nothings, empty thoughts of fear, the threat of me opening your invisible thighs and finding only a cold bone of what was once thought of as love. And only because she screamed when you stuck her did you think your solution was effective, but since the show must go on, she let you haunt her, fumble with her erotic ghost. Goblets of soul blood sat on the table and we all pretended to drink as we planned out our attack of love. I’ll get you into my mouth for sure and that’s what we all say and think when we’re too stiff to move in and out for real, like soft feathers sweeping light back and forth. No this is morbid, like sticky flies bathing in the stench of the murdered and the murderer’s blood passing out wedding rings and sperm.

Well that’s fine. I never loved you anyway, I was only an echo of dead tries coming back one by one as licks of this tongue. There isn’t anything I would want more than to feel a living body inside me. The wake. The seduction of cold disconnected dismembered disguised distances between undisclosed destinations. I could feel you if you could feel me. That’s the pain, that’s the nothing, you were my numb, just another one clawing at the buried box from inside, underneath the already covered earth death. Then would you float to me, then could I love you, without any of the cold parts stuck in me groaning “I’m dead but let’s pretend I’m alive.” I don’t care if you’re scared of me either. Everyone is. Get in line, the funeral procession of every drop of my blood known as you, my beloved. The one I could never leave behind unspoken for. This is my promise and you are my broken, I was about to say heart as if any of us still had one. And I’m so sad even though I lost any feeling in these parts long ago. I put signs up looking and nobody called. She’s just gone and I looked and she never came back and nobody ever saw her again. Not even on a poster that said “Missing have you seen her face?” Skull skeleton corpse hot body, you make me want you all over again. Get in, get on, I’m on fire just for you. Sex mound. Laughing underneath you I am the hole in the ground, I tried to tell you…love is real, of course it is and you’re all mine. Forever my one and only. Laugh, what else? Sticky semen and lipstick stains, that’s it. All of me.

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From this point forward I’m not sure how much I should tell you for fear you may see me as immoral or you might just get offended. I know you thought I was a witch bringing harmless white light and I am, but the wage for sin is death and I’ve been a sinner not just in this life but for many. I mean, you call it sin and I say it for your sake. I call it the great unraveling, initiation into the Loom. Mysteries are always covert, covered in horrors and pain so we won’t go there, so we won’t be free and you think I’m in bondage, that the dark, sexy sorcerer is doing anything to me that I haven’t already done to myself in a less obvious way? No, this isn’t a dirty secret, this is the secret of time. How time binds us, how sexuality shames us, how we must be free by first being sucked under into the world down below where our beloved waits covered in snakes and black horses, white saviors and gray wolves. Ravens who fly everywhere and know where your dark is. And, well, he knew. He saw through and he pulled it all out, excruciatingly apparent was my dark heart poison to him. My secrets that burned and nobody heard but the Dark Sun, the source of my light. I would go down on him, with him and because of him forever and I have and I do and I will. Amen,
here’s how it went…

Enki literally knocked me to the floor and said, “Don’t move.” And so I laid there naked, behind the red door, watching him as he prepared the bed for my prison. Bondage by the erect serpent. Could this be the answer to my prayers or could this be my ancestor’s curse? I laid there intoxicated and unusually lucid thinking, “It’s probably a little bit of both.” After about an hour of preparation, he grabbed my arm pulling me up off the floor then he nodded his head toward the bathing room and said, “Get in there, bath yourself and come back, you have twenty minutes.” And so I did and it just seemed so peculiar to me how I was just playing along, not really resisting, in fact welcoming my own bondage by a man who looked well over twice my age and yet I knew, as a witch that he was ancient and had probably inhabited the same body for centuries. This fact alone gave him the upper hand over me as I don’t remember as much and so my witch’s powers, although innate, are buried in my unconscious and so have to be painstakingly cultivated all over again should I have full the dominion over the fire of the sun and the blood of the moon. With every new body we must reawaken these astral lights and the time consuming nuisance of this in itself is limiting and I knew it. I was well aware of his powers of perception as well as the fact that he knew more about me than I knew about myself.
What else could any wise witch do but try their best to submit, surrender to the sorcerer who wielded the greater power? He was the only darkness light enough to be blinding and yet I wasn’t as blind as I seemed, or maybe I was. All I know is my emotions were overwhelming to me, he came on energetically like an impersonal yet furious storm destroying any false shelter and leaving me stranded and naked with no protection from his lightening or his thunder. The fact is, deep inside I didn’t want any protection. I wanted something from him that I felt, and was painful, but that I could not define other than sexual desire. I know now in retrospect, that that was the darkening process of my initiation. The initiation exposing it’s origins in the unbearable physical magnetism, it’s intention in the urge for annihilation and it’s omniscience with him wearing the face of my death wish drenched in sexual darkness, the sexual darkness that was the holder of all my immortal magic. The words and the powers are hidden in the poetry between certain bodies, in the shame of such is their unspoken twilight language. How we speak without words to the shadow of the other bringing light to the treachery of those desires is the salvation that would lead us to the effortless power of the sorcerer. The Dark Sun was the only man I ever knew being bloodless, soulless and yet more alive than me. I gave him all the blood he wanted to drink as I dangled on his pendulum swinging between the black and the white barely alive and addicted my killer. It’s a dangerous and wicked game, this alchemy.

“Your time is up.” Enki stood in the door looking at my naked body as I stepped out of the white dragon’s water. He handed me a towel and wrapping it around my body I followed him back into the room. “He has said you must put this on.” Enki smiled handing me a mask, a mask I had not yet seen. It was the face of a red wolf, a red wolf with black horns tipped in gold. There were holes for the eyes and the mouth as a place to breath from. It was scary. “Put it on.” He commanded and so I did. As soon as the mask was secured Enki yanked the towel from my body, grabbed my arm and pulled me to the long oval mirror and said, “He wants me to tell you to look at yourself like this long and hard because it’s the last time you’ll see your face in this mirror.” “But it’s not my face.” I thought feeling upset and afraid, “It’s a red devil wolf and it doesn’t look like me at all.” I replied out loud. Then things got strangely macabre when Enki started laughing in a way that was out of character, as if he were possessed. He threw his serpent head back, his pitchfork tongue dangling as he laughed and he laughed harder and louder as the more terrified I became. He just laughed, his scales quivering like sea water under the moon, I watched him hypnotized. “I must be hallucinating.” And no sooner did I think that then did Enki declared from out of his laughing frenzy. “Oh no, you’re not hallucinating, it’s real. It’s all real!” And he threw his snake head back and just kept laughing like an evil hyena. “They can all read my mind?” I was panicked. “Yes! All of us!” He cried from behind his tears and drool of laughter. I stood frozen staring at the devil with a red wolf head and my hay colored eyes peering through into the mythic oval mirror whose edges were gilded in gold, just like the tips of my horns, just like the slits of his eyes, just like the cracks in my heart. And I couldn’t see any of it. I saw only darkness and fear. I saw only my naked curves filled with her hot blood. I felt only like fucking my pain to death as she screamed murder into his black angel eyes.

Haha! I bet you didn’t see that line coming. Whose laughing now red eyes? Everyone wants someone to love and I think I’ve been blessed. She, who is me, looked into the magic mirror and saw him, the so called Dark Sun Master looking back at her with a rabid lust. So to make myself clear, I stuck my wet tongue through the red wolf mouth hole and licked his flaming eyes. “Get out of my mirror and come get me little monster!” And I started to laugh with abandon as Enki rolled on the floor giggling, writhing and groaning as if he’d been happily gutted…and then I thought I smelled him bleeding…as if he had any snake blood left…and then I started getting hungry again. “Where are you?” It’s me, endless red laughter gilded in gold. Black mouth hole. Not one moon left in his honey tear sky. “I love my new face.” I laughed at him into the mirror, starving for his sorcerer blood.

He stood smiling into the mirror and as ready for her as a freshly sharpened blade. “Ambrosia.”
he whispered, “I love you.”

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I love you when I’m forced to, that’s the way I like to be tied to this earth, because of your hand. I don’t really care what you do as long as you know there is only me. I’m very possessive like a dog with a bone. Heaven help me to stop being an animal. Leashes only make it worse, reminding me to fight back pulling. The special relationship between the lover and the beast is one of violent arbitration. Transliteration. Implication. I imply everything without saying a word and that’s why you love me and why we’re both beasts loving the one with the handle. Take me for a walk into the shadowy fields of trees with nobody under them. Then I’ll be the moonlight for you, bathing your shiny teeth in my fantasy shadow lover who carries a pretend knife, but it works, let me tell you the blade is all real. The only real between the two of us dying. You know, we did this to each other and now it’s too late. I instigate and infuriate like it’s my only permitted addiction. Friction. Don’t ask me why, but if you must, let me say because I’m a fire worshipper and you are my God flame. How else could you live if I wasn’t there stoking and making you mad with my threats of knives and emasculated beasts who promise me chains and leave me with threads? I’m bored of boring beasts that’s all. Nobody tries anymore, it’s epidemic. The death trance can you take me higher than the droning of clones? I would be the love child then with flowers and pearls and endless soft kindness…but that somehow seems boring as well. Epidemic all of these faces of pain who couldn’t get out of me until you came along and started beating at the hell and I love you all the way down every time brave heart. That was what I wanted to name my dog had her name not already been Mandy. But that was a long time ago and I’m not a dog I’m both a beast and it’s shadow looking to master as well as find a good master in the shadowy love stricken realm of goodbyes. I’ll strangle the life right out of you if you ever try to leave me…just kidding you’re already dead shadow pumper. I could bring you back pink petaled and declare you a free flower beneath my astral moonlight.. and name you brave heart though…if you want…

Please, but at least you could laugh and push down a little bit harder. It’s always me, the trouble causer…and I’ve even been called a coyote. Just because it’s funny that I’m your slave and you still love to chase me like I’m wild, that’s all. The lover and the beast. Interchangeable reversible. Undeniably free…

Ekajati moon beast enlightened hole and fang. Awaken from your slumber. Dream dot, I’ll eat you. Be mine. Sharada Devi

THE WHITE HORSE part 24

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It’s over said the fire to the sky, the one who taps the root behind all things, even you. The wait is over. Die savage clock, a face not gray, is he who put me in your eyes. White turns to black and back again. This sorcerer twilight, window of the open storm, he’s coming again, the hail of yesterday, rabid with anger. “I have come a long way to find you.” You said barely breathing. I wanted to feed you but you wouldn’t open your mouth. Life itself unlived, can’t inhale you through the snake of her portal, neither will death exhale when you try to die. Nothing will free you from her, she wants what she wants, and yet you have to go…”I’d like to sleep why won’t you close your eyes?”

Too fucking bad, we’ve got all night. I have barely any thing at all, and now these creatures want my dogs and you don’t say a thing? So where do we go from here deep thunder? Blow me under, the storm rises and the hard cloud needs to break. You’re lightening like that. And the last thing I remember is you smiled and said “I’m here.” And I rained and I reigned. Where has my thunder gone, are you simply a pet with horns and no more crying?

Let’s do this. Die like a storm has to blow.

I never forget a dark face above or below me. Crooked flame, I have nothing but this evening of light. This last song by the fire, the things we let go of, hook us like devils with swords that curve and speak like bright gods from a sinister heaven. Crosses in flames. “But it wasn’t her.” Said the sword who’s a liar. “You know it’s me, it’s all me.” Perfect fire, salient sea, on top of the world, throw your letters in me before I kill you to go. Down, under my big righteous threat.

I had to have him, the blue child at my doorstep, a simple love god. “Is there anyone home?” You said knocking. But I lied, I’m the weaver who brought you, when you thought you thought my secret, it was me. I brought you, here into me, The Indivisible Fire. You saw all of me, you were the fall of me. Haha. You must want to fuck with my face on? And throw the clock through his arms? Out through the window crying? Crying for a swelling worm inside a pounding rain? The seconds spilling into you or perhaps you spilling into me? Me! The antivenom. Funny, I’m bitten and I don’t have any words. I have you lining my living soul with your soft velvet stuffed animal heart, like a casket welcoming me home. I said I wouldn’t leave you cold, how could I? Corpse on fire I would like to love you. My way, and yes, it is a sin…a big horn dripping sin.

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“What if I don’t want to!?” I turned around defiantly yelling straight into his face. Then I looked up at him with a fierce intensity, my face only inches from his face, and my heart burst into flames and melted. I hope he didn’t see because I remained strong. Yes, I was very drunk but she had a wrath that was strikingly clear and did not falter when in response to him, the sorcerer, the one who twisted his eyes like knives, into the wounds of her heart. I was paralyzed. His eyes locked into mine, it’s hard to say how long we stood there, I was utterly suspended in the mystical blue light of his gaze. “He’s immortal.” I discovered but I did not let off how taken I was by his divine and immaculate countenance. The longer we threatened each other in this war of eyes, the deeper and deeper I went somewhere so far beyond my sloppy, lustful body I cannot describe, and he was careless, not trying and yet succeeding. I found that this was his greatest magical power of all, he never even had to try, he was effortless. And to be truthful, I was absolutely, madly in love. I hated him so much it was painful. And he felt nothing as far as I could tell. He reminded me of the way my cats would tear the legs off of spider one by one and lay amused watching them wobble, limp and suffer until the final death blow, never a chance at all. No escape from the Dark Sorcerer Sun. His eyes set me free.

He didn’t say a word, and so I said one more time, probably a bit quieter and less convincing, having just been penetrated to the core of my hurt and my love all at once, which also made me think I just may want to bend over and get punished after all, “What if I don’t want to?!” I jerked my arm away to make a point that I was in charge of me, not him…still not a word, he just laughed, more like an amused chuckled. Then as I stood there waiting for him to make his next move, he took a step closer and pushed his entire dark, godly hot body against mine, firm and threatening. “Oh my god, I love him.” At that moment I would have done anything for him, any command or punishment would have been my bliss. Yet I stood there and I didn’t move. We remained locked in this magnetic syncing of hearts and other body parts, and it was clear to me that he felt the same attraction. He couldn’t hide his feelings seeing as I was pushed up against the thing no longer hidden, if you know what I mean. And haha, she was excited like a wild cat in heat in the jungle. After that night I considered myself to be a master in my own right, the way I remained composed and didn’t just fall to me knees, drooling and tearing at his pants, is to this day, still a miracle to me. He was breathing my body into his like a loop, light was circulating, I was being sucked into another dimension, bodiless yet supremely erotic. My body slowly dissolved into his as I stood there listening to his breath, colliding with his heart, and the throbbing, the divine throb only grew until I felt nothing else but that, and he had to be the one, and I knew it was forever. The room was black, the fire was dead. The only heat left was the heat between us and I was on fire. Even his eyes disappeared, everything was gone but this pulsing of souls and to be blunt, the pulse was big. She was ready to ride the black horse and I would have, if that’s what he wanted. Bent forward or backward what do I care? A means to an end, all of it. I was drunk, it was dark. I took off my dress, I tore it right off. I was too hot, I was panting, I was dying, dripping like soft rain all over the hard, merciless floor. He couldn’t see me although I know he knew I was naked because he felt it all happen. His body never leaving mine, pressed against the wings of an invisible angel, I felt like I could fly inside of him forever. Slowly and casually his hand moved up my arm and then his other hand moved up my other arm. Slowly, softly, until both hands were around my neck. He then gently began to squeeze my throat as he leaned into my mouth, his lips on mine. I could feel the tip of his serpent tongue on my lips, and down below a large, angry tongue began stirring wrathfully. “If you don’t get down on your knees right now,” He growled like an animal into my ear, “I will strangle you to death.” And it didn’t bother me at all. I laughed even. I loved his hands around my throat, I loved every second of his seething anger, secretly wishing he would just go ahead and take it all out on me. At least bite me or something. But you know, I was drunk and he was a sorcerer, and I was in training for something still unknown. I should have maybe been more timid, less brash and then possibly things wouldn’t have gotten so dark in the coming days. I admit half of me, the half that feeds snakes, then eats snakes, loved every second of it all. Do not pity me, I am beyond any quest for lightness, I like it rough. And so I stood there and I didn’t get down. “Kill me.” I said, and strangely, I really meant it. This would be nearly the perfect death, more perfect though had we not been two separate bodies. “Kill me now.” I urged him, naked and wicked beyond words were my desires for annihilation. I closed my eyes feeling, hearing, nothing but him. I leaned my face into his mouth, my tongue touching the tip of his, but only for a moment as I whispered, “Do it.” And he dropped his hands and started laughing. Laughing like I was a joke. I hate him so much. “Enki!” He yelled into the crevices of the room and immediately Enki appeared. “Turn the lights on.” He said, and on came the lights. Thank god I was drunk because here I stood before him and now Enki as well, naked and humiliated beneath bright lights with nowhere to hide, nothing to shield me from their evaluation of my body like I was mere meat. He said loudly. “What do you think Enki?” and Enki replied, “She’s a little thin, pale even.” “Hmm…you’re right.” He said as he walked slowly around my shaking body observing every inch. And now I really did want to die and Enki didn’t help, he was equally as cruel when he said, “Are you sure you can’t do better master?” “Maybe, probably.” He replied stroking his chin like I was a horse or a vehicle he might want to purchase. I stood silent thinking, “I hate you. I hate you both.” And he stood back up from his analysis of my rear end and whispered from behind, “Oh really? I thought you loved me little girl?” I was nearly moved to tears of rage, remembering that in the midst of him, even my own thoughts aren’t private. I remained silent as he came around to the front observing my breasts like they were food, yet he never touched anything, which was excruciatingly painful. No, he just studied me which he knew was all the more tormenting than just digging in. At the end of the evaluation, he leaned forward and stabbed me again right through the eyes saying very quietly, seductively actually, “Do you really want to die?” And this time I replied, yelling right into his face, “Yes!” I screamed as loud as I could. They both broke out laughing like I was a circus clown. I stood like a statue, never letting them see my pain and also trying not to think so he couldn’t hear me. “Enki, take her to her bedroom and tie her up….tightly.” “Yes master.” He replied. As we were leaving the room he never turned around but he did say in his wolf voice, “Ambrosia, I liked your ideas but I’d rather burn the masks later.” And that was it, we were in the hallway, passing room after room, finally back at the blood red door. Enki pushed the door open and it groaned like a captured woman, “Get inside.” Said the snake.

He stood there in the dark his entire body raging like a perfect storm. She was precious, soft and fiery, sexually sublime. “But she is going to give me trouble. A lot of trouble.” He spoke into the silence, as his heart throbbed wanting only to drink her quiet tears as if they were his own.

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I’m so tired of myself, all I do is talk about love and it’s always three in the morning when I wake up hearing you breathe, back to life I stumble in on death, in the aftermath of it all of course, and I knew all the numbers but you. You the one wearing zero, how low is that? You’re only getting hotter and I won’t go away. I haunt the haunted with soul. I hunger for the hungry with myself. I take back the taker. I love the one who strikes me down after midnight and before venus calls. Worlds upon worlds take place in this night and to think I found you angry and you said no I’m not. I’m just listening to the clock, clearing light from my eyes, forgetting all about sinners and going back to bed. To be love sick another day in the empty realm of empty people who sing into each other’s anemic eyes a song that goes nowhere but down and it’s boring. My down isn’t boring. So where does your down go? I hope it’s up for the sake of the she devil flame, the greatest source of the echoing muse. I know you watch me from my very own poetic darkness. Voyeur, I’m not blind. Me again turning you into my very own seduction of light, you moved from the right to the left. Toward myself, as the left hand of God.

Could there even be another day without you, gray buildings filled with nothing but these seconds, like right handed office germs killing me slowly while I sit numb. I wasn’t there but I can imagine. Staring at the clock and thinking of you, the fire that couldn’t be split, it’s me really that you’re thinking of, my caustic, renegade love, a make believe river of diamond flames…you shouldn’t avoid me like I’m an irresistible plague. It’s rude.

“Just ride me into the river of flames.” Said a God voice. “Could it be Hades?” I thought, “Probably since it’s you.” Said a voice from the sky… and then I saw many wild horses…making love in the ashes once we died. It’s all boring, don’t be stupid. I’m not a slut, I’m paying attention to you, thumping on God’s ass, that’s all. You’re just a tiny, flimsy dancer, and it’s not my fault….anyway, then my God voice said,

“The crooked line moves into me like a secret weapon straightened wherever you start, and blows up like a nuclear bomb whenever you end. I’m always the only one. The Destroyer of Illusion.” Sounds like fun to me. “Let’s do this.” Said the flame to the horse. The horse is me.

Did you get that yet?

So who is the lover and who is the flame? It looks like it’s me once again, crossing over your unbelievable face. Eclipsing the only thing separate, the thing forgetting the tracks of our pain, is this mortal stain. I’d like to call it lust and love all at once. How about enlightened hedonism? How about lets just call it me bagging you once and for all ok? I’m not heavy on whimsical romance. I’m forgetful of soft, pudgy limp, curled up hands…because it seems you are forgetting, and it’s not my imagination,

“This is an emergency.”

Said the coil that needs to strike. Sharada Devi

THE WHITE HORSE part 23

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I fear my words have fallen and you didn’t care at all. To the ground crashed, crumbled, stepped on, just broken like everything else. And I barely believe in God because of this, the vacancies all around. I tried to seduce you, resuscitate you, breath into your mouth as if I were an expert at stopping death or raising the dead, but I know nothing of the living who I never even met. Psycho babble, all of it. And nothing ever changes and it all just peels back the same old skin. A storm on the floor, loud and watery, gray and cold, who cares if no one ever even saw the one who dropped it? And so I am sad that I have walked alone into another wasted land, a place where thieves rub up against my thighs and boys with guns stare at my computer eyes. And whose masturbating to this shell? I’ve seen a few close calls, my eyes are everywhere looking for any evidence of a score. My words, the only little thing I have embedded in my soul is what to say to ease your pain, to hurt you, or to remember God. A million ways I’ve learned to say I love you or that you’re the one. Yes don’t forget me, I know that you will. I am a stage hand, an invisible drum. I do not pity my echo, I couldn’t love you if I tried, my words were not heard by anyone but my fingers who typed and cried out loud. I fear I have sent out this s.o.s in so many different ways, I am in danger of disappearing you know, disappearing and not remembering you. Forgetting that you weren’t real anyway. You lied to me, everyone lies to me. They cannot do any better than lie but I’m never enough anyway, glamour dies and only a wilted bird remains, a bird who forgot it’s own song. And every day I try to write the words to bring hearts back to life in this hell that we’ve fallen, but I’m afraid I’m old and we’ve already died before we ever begun. The girl was beautiful and she could have been me but she wasn’t. No sorcerer saved me, no greater land swallowed me. No horse ever came, black or white. Ravens simply fly over parking lots and snakes, upright snakes, well you know what that means and it’s over. Flowers didn’t fall they just faded into the gray land where you never heard me and I never cried. My words, the letters I’ve written to invisible gods and hiding ghost faces, I don’t even remember what I said. I tried to say I love you because there must be a God in our eyes, but I can’t remember and you can’t give me what I want, which is something real, something I can touch. I hope you know I don’t make any of this up, I feel my words like rain on naked skin and I grow cold just thinking I might not have anything left to say that will move you to tears. Ok. You don’t know me but I love you. That’s the easiest way to end my song, my life on screen and off, all the places I must go but never went. All the cutting, all the knives. All the promises and years of mourning. The grief for all the sadness I see when I go outside. I know it’s all me and my storm and I promise I really do look for the sun. He was dark, the first sun I knew. I called him God and that’s the end of the story. It’s the end because we all have pain hidden in our glory, it’s the end because you don’t love me, I’m not real, I’m a clever sentence or a heart drenched romance, I’m an angry snake wrapped around your thigh. I am anything these words can muster to find new life, to imagine you must smile when you read my heart. I can’t see yours but I try and words fail me like God to the dying. We all know heaven never went anywhere. We all know I’m just a chronic, lonely mystic looking for tears as some sort of evidence that God is alive and that I can make love any time I want to. But I’m not much, to be honest, all words dipped in clouds. I have a magical power and only because I have nothing else. My magical power is just a way to pass the aching of time, I can move not a single mountain, I cannot find a single God. The hole, this hole in my heart made of earth has only seeds and no flowers. Not enough, never enough tears to make anything grow, it’s a trick…

I haven’t suffered for the wise. But I know this won’t last forever and I really do think you’re beautiful. So innocent and whole, intact and surprised by every single love note. I know I’m not real for you or for me, a pastime, ten minutes of entertaining lunacy, a useless kiss, a fading allegory. I am sorry these words couldn’t be enough to lift you higher than me, to give you life. Not that you need it, but part of my urge, my
mission is to imagine you do, need my love. My mask speaking God and always on dying. I would hold your hand, I would be there, but I know I’m all alone and you don’t need me because I’m old and my words are dry. Goodbye summer snake, I wish I could have you, but I’m not real and neither are you I guess. Psychobabble, all of it, my ghost town.

My heart fell to the floor and crashed into an entire alphabet just so I could write these words and it never even mattered. My love as language,
and you as my God.

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I stood there looking at him, numb and forgetful. I’m nothing, I’m a poor girl with freckles and hair the color of hay. My body is defiled, my soul is wept of virtue and no matter how I try I cannot feel beautiful ever. All this sadness flooded my mind as he gazed into my heart and I knew, truly I was sure we both knew I wasn’t enough. I didn’t want to be enough because I just wasn’t. I was young, stupid, too tall and too spooky. Shy and introverted, I didn’t even talk to people I only talked to animals and it was ok with grandma. I had found comfort and relief in her acceptance of me but let’s face it, everyone knew I was a little bit off giving animals voices as if they were human. Maybe it’s because my mother was murdered and my father was a violent alcoholic who regularly raped me. I don’t really know, all I know is this man is beautiful, rich and perfect and I am living a fantasy that might even be just a long epic dream, I do not know. Witches in my family have quite an aptitude for lucid dreaming, so it’s definitely a possibility. I was drowning, being flooded with self doubt and crippling insecurity. I wanted to crawl under the table and die. “He is so beautiful and I’m more like a cow or an ox.” I thought as I squirmed beneath his energetic scrutiny. Then, just out of the blue, he started laughing and it was kind of loud. I looked at him confused and realized he had been reading my mind the entire time. I was so embarrassed my face was red and my heart was quaking. “Please. Sit down.” He said smiling at me in his deep, warm voice gesturing to the exquisitely carved wooden chair across from his, as if he didn’t notice my awkward behavior. As I sat down I gathered myself bit by embarrassing bit, realizing in the uncomfortable silence when my stomach loudly growled, that I was starving and hadn’t eaten except for the fruit and cheese in the morning. And so when the food started coming, appearing on lavish trays brought by the dainty fairies I ate it quickly and without talking. I was humiliated and needed a focus and my focus was food. I don’t know if he even ate. He just sat there so still and so calm, watching me with such a grace and charm it made me feel even more clumsy. After the first two courses when he offered me some wine for the third time, I accepted. The truth is, I didn’t care anymore what happened and the wine did ease my pain and so I drank it and I drank it fast. I seemed to handle it a little better this time and yet the room was spinning and I was feeling warm, and still, he just sat watching me in total amusement, saying nothing. And as the effects of the wine were quickly settling in I grew braver, of course sexier and ready to talk. He, on the other hand, didn’t seem at all effected by the wine. He remained absolutely poised and graceful while I got wilder and wilder. You know how she is. Then when I began laughing like a lunatic she devil, clawing at the clasp to remove my virginal maiden dress, nearly ripping at it like an insane prostitute, that’s when he leaned forward slowly, looked me straight in the eyes and said with the voice of a hissing snake, “How would you know? How would you know any of it?” And then he leaned back waiting for an answer as if he had been reading my mind again and already knew the answer. “What?” I replied arrogantly, my laughter ceasing, “How to stop you or how to break out of your prison?” He smiled, so sexy and hissed, “Any of it.” “I’ll turn you inside out black horse.” I hissed back smiling the best snake smile I knew, trying to seem as wicked intense and in control as he was. “Really?” He raised his eyebrows. “Yes. Really. Inside out.” I answered back as threateningly as is possible when you’re drunk on magical wine. “How would you do that? Turn me inside out?” He asked quietly with his eyes as sharp as daggers and yet grinning as if I were a five year old child. I’m sure you can see by now why I was getting desperate for power and hotter and hotter, knowing I must rise to the occasion somehow, and so I did what the situation called for and I proceeded to go into graphic detail in the best mistress voice I could feign, based on my limited experience with men other than my father, of how I planned to devour him and throw away the evidence. I was so intoxicated, enraptured by her erotic fury that it actually wasn’t hard to sound convincing or to be creative once I got the ball rolling. “Well…” I sat there searching for the most seductive, yet blatantly sadistic, way to scare him into submission, “First of all I would burn all your childish masks and then I would rip off all your clothes. After that I would blindfold you and tie you up tightly to that torture chamber behind my bed….” I thought of all the contraptions not exactly sure how they worked but I was certain I would figure it out. “I would do things to you you can never imagine, bondage for days, maybe even months, depending on how long you could survive. Days and endless nights of me and all my chains and hooks. No food or water only me, the nightmare in black over you, moving through you like a cruel shadow torturing you into submission, blinded by my spell, drunk on the wine of my body, you would get nothing you wanted, nothing. No light ever again. I would turn your heart as black as your soul. I would beat you, blind you, eat out every inch of you and devour your little black horse, pleasuring myself repeatedly at your expense, licking your tears as if they were honey, oblivious to your pleads for my mercy. And then on the final day when I’d hollowed you out completely, I would overthrow you once and for all, the greatest death of all would be mine. Dominion of the great serpent who lies coiled behind my black eyes. Then, I would mount your limp body as if I were the conqueror and I would sit there perfectly still like a righteous, erected serpent stone, victorious, while you groaned and begged and bled for more and I wouldn’t do a single thing to help you through it. I would just laugh and probably torture you some more. I would watch you die into me with no masks left at all.” I leaned back and sighed at my accomplishment, smiling inside, completely self satisfied at my thorough, and I thought, convincing description. I was feeling very powerful as he watched me with admiration, his deep, sea blue eyes penetrating mine to the core of whatever this was between us, twinkling with sheer delight, which really wasn’t the response I was looking for, I was aiming for something that looked more like dread or fear or at least slight trepidation. And all I got was intrigue.

The candles were flickering as phantoms covered the walls, and he just sat there for minutes softly looking at me as if he were pondering something. I was very confused but pretended not to care. And as the fairies brought food I continued to eat while he silently watched me, he didn’t eat at all, he only drank the blood red wine and I only got drunker and drunker happy to oblige the tension that was building, “What do you want from me me?!” I finally yelled at him after my fifth glass of wine. “Nothing you don’t have.” He replied nonchalantly. “Fire.” He said as he blew out the last light. We sat face to face in a room now mostly dark except for the flames of the fireplace. Dinner was now over and had gone on for much longer than you’d think. All the silence and mind reading and staring, well, he wouldn’t get the better of me. “Why am I here?!” I cried into the darkening shadow of his perfect face. “Training.” He said cooly. “Training for what?” Without answering me he stood up in the dark room and walked around the table to where I sat. He stood there over me and I ignored him. I could feel him breathing, his heart, everything felt strangely in sync with my own. Then, just as I was about to burst from the magnetic pull of his body upon mine, he leaned down and whispered cryptically in my ear, “I know what you want.” I was exceptionally intoxicated and yet by the power of the she devil within, fire with fire remember? I was able to continue ignoring him, appearing as indifferent as he did. Finally he whispered again almost growling. “Get up.” And only because he grabbed my arm did I get up. “Bend over.” He growled, almost purring, “It’s time to get punished.”

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I feel her slip out of nothing and I know this world isn’t solid. Pain, any of it. The ground was pulled from under the thing that couldn’t hold it and I yawned, not because I was tired but because it all came from inside of me. The swamp we know that love is, anything but pure, crystal mind of me, the heartache, none of it. Not worthwhile at all. And so it all shook, this sacred pummeled ground. Lifting me, crying too loud, lifting me into the solace of you. Imaginary, all of it. The haunt of arms reaching for my cold fears embedded in body, broken like stone, too old to tell the year of any of it. The past is the past beautiful awakening, I wish there were more moments like you. A great loss all of it. Pulling me deeply into denial of the great day. I didn’t have you, ever. Yet, she formed a great circle and from out of it enemies were born such as other shapes and thoughts. All the things that didn’t matter like answers and love potions. Such a grim reminder, so pale against anything precious that might have been sweeter than such a bitter thing called dreams and endless love. It’s all endless, none of it. Counts for nothing, washes up dead on the crimson shore. Yes it’s red, mostly all of it. My feelings for you red and swollen. White the great oblivion meant nothing in the end, absolutely nothing. My love slipped and his eyes never saw me fall from him like rain leaves a cloud, smashing into the earth, disappearing for nothing. Maybe something will grow from the wreckage, no way to tell while I’m still inside, unfortunately. I’ve bled for many things, I bled into the glass you drank. I’ve fed myself to hungry things, I fed you flesh, my very own, body skin that melts because it dies in fire and loneliness. Without God, any of me, no. Time is burning, I’m touched by the storm known as White Out and I’m laying on the floor waiting for a friend. Headless on my horse, who even cares what I look like, besides everyone that would approve of me, another feminine package quickly going bad. Nobody was hungry for me, any of what mattered. I should have kept it all inside, never let it leak into love. I felt love and I lost it. I was wrong to come here, searching for impossible things and using my body to tempt you. That doesn’t work any more, I’m broken. Slivers on the floor under your feet, I hope you hurt as much as I do. I shouldn’t have said that, it’s an angry lie. I would never say such things out loud unless I were haunted by blood stained ghosts with glass in their eyes looking for me, the heart breaker. But I’m not serious of course, not even for a breath would I haunt you. Cover my eyes in the mirror of white thieves. I gave nothing back that I took and I’ve stollen worlds as big as time, a clock ticking through it all. Choices, all of it. Summer wept, windswept choices. Should I plant a tree here or not? “Well, the sun never dies,” You answered as if that would help make any of this easier. “Fine because someone’s gotta go.”

Seeds, too many to count. I felt her slip out of nothing and this was it, love child, my only home. You left me stranded like the last and only sunset. Meandering slur of worthless colors who could never look me in the eye, only fade into someone else, like the ocean who means so much, all the life I do not have beneath the surface, nothing deeper than the stone you threw. She’s most likely empty anyway, and everyone agreed, yes throw it. Throw it into her along with a name that means ‘as radiant as a thousand full moons.’ She’s empty already and the moons have left her darkened and slipping through cracks at the bottom of the ocean. Is love real, how would I know I’m just a flattened earthworm who forgot her own story. The dream of it all, what led to this. I wanted you because I was someone else when you loved me, and I knew only then that anything was real even though you likely pretended you couldn’t see me, draining my blood for it all, you all, and everyone thirsty for more. There is no more of me, I’ve just been full of myself bleeding over, bleeding into memories of what might have been if I hadn’t turned around. Well, everyone turns around when they hear a knock on their door, isn’t that true? All of you coming for me, at the end of the day. I’ve always been yours even if you didn’t want me. The moon rises against her own will and nobody even notices how she’d rather be dead than keep losing him, the light that brings her back forever, and isn’t it ironic, the clash of these tides? My love in your ear, the simple, naked seashore. All of it simply contradictory. Paradox weaving the great Loom in your eyes. Searching, finding only me searching as well, for the secrets of love as if there were any. It’s all baggage and we shouldn’t carry any of it unless we want to hurt a hurt greater than loss. Love, my love for you, I’m lost in it all. Simply imprisoned. And it’s not like you’d notice because I’m all alone hanging onto the last moments of this empty sky. Holes everywhere that nobody sees and so she slipped and nothing caught her and you swallowed me and nothing could ever tear us apart. My very own eyes that look through your heart and cry for your love with every sound you make. It’s true, every word. Nothing. Not even a stupid song. I will leave you quietly and hard like a stone. How does it feel to be the only one left? Take me with you into the silence.

My tears are the quietest tears of all.

“I’m going to have to cut, I’m going to have to pull this darkness out of you.” He said as if he were a surgeon. “My love, my savior cut me to pieces and pull my soul straight out of my eyes. I’ve slipped into every pour of you, this darkness we must get rid of. Love me madly, my storm.”

As if I’d ever leave you. Never.

I wish he was real, my beautiful mind fuck.

Sharada Devi