the messianic complex. (inprogress).
you once walked through me like om, sweating only nectar & spices i’d gathered from the skin of your spine, but your ego was on. now, i am woman split in half, spit from the lips of gods, strangled by the hands of strange cities, sidewalks swollen with the scars of memories supressed, right brain left the logic of love on a southwest moantain top and stripped bare before the sun, and let pluto and his moons gaze upon something real, and asked the stars to remember the true shape of my nature, before i surrendered what was left to the world. his moons laugh. they touch sides like the galaxy’s alligned chakras, like pearls. i beg to be the thread in their seemless dance of knowing. they laugh. they tell me you will make love. they tell me you will try and make love. they say, let love be. they tell me i am love. but, is anything less than destruction foreseen for weak women- weak women, like me, built from the ribs of a man whose love is the heat surrounding earthly bodies, reason while i am swimming and dreaming and reaching for self. they laugh.