Ryanpeters

TO THE BELOVED YET TO ARRIVE I first dreamed of you when I was on the cusp of puberty

TO THE BELOVED, YET TO ARRIVE:
I first dreamed of you when I was on the cusp of puberty. We swam through aqua-blue waters, holding hands and laughing like mermaids do. We were both children then, but that night was the first bit of happiness I had in all my teenage years. Perhaps the only moments of pure joy I had in all the years of my adolescent life.
I thought I met you, when I was a maiden, in my 20s. But really, I had not even met myself by then, and I was captured by a dark man who bent me to his will. I loved the pain of it. The smashing of the bedrock underneath which my eternal nature was buried.
I became sharp-clawed and vicious. My hunger, bottomless. My yoni, a sorcery dream-machine I used to bend men to my will, without even giving them a taste. People called me blade, for the sharpness of my edges, for the way I could cut down anyone, undo their sense of self, for slightest provocation.
I was a fool then. I did not know love. And the memory of you had faded deep into my unconscious mind, buried with my true essence, until I might be ready to remember who I am and do the work that is mine to do.
When the dark man died, I finally shattered. All the way. I was a broken mirror, scattered on the floor, and watched our smoking city collapsing, like Babylon on fire. In fragments, I became mad, lost, furious, rebellious. Against love, against life, against creation. I only wanted what I had, and would not budge for anything else. Not by choice, anyway.
For almost a decade I travelled by moonlight or the tiny flame of a lantern I stole from a guardian at the gate, who tried to deny me passage through my own city. I left in my wake many broken things. Only what was true, survived me. The streets of my city flowed red with the blood of gods and monsters.
I summoned myself from the sands of time past, and time not-yet. I reached with my spirit-arms past the boundaries of worlds, and I drew up the lava from the heart of creation; a spectacle I hoped might get your attention.
I invoked the sounds that DNA understands, and I danced and wailed and grunted, whimpered, screamed. I did it for me, but underneath what I might have known, there was the eternal memory of you, of us, in service. And I knew you would not recognize me, unless I could become myself.
There were moments I thought I caught a whiff of you on the underworldly wind. Moments when I felt your hand touch my face, as I wailed with despair. There were moments when I almost heard your thoughts to me, and times when angels came into my room and said, "He has prayed to find you every single day."
All I want as a soul, is to fully actualize my eternal nature in a human body. All I want as a woman is the opportunity to love and be loved for my whole being and all its wild dimensions, in and out of time. In, and out of space. The unbearable lightness and darkness of all that I am, and all that I am yet to become. And you.
To the beloved who has arrived not-yet: I am almost ready to receive you. I'm sorry that it's taking me so long, but you must understand that what we come together to do is so much bigger than what we are alone. We must bring everything. Our alchemy must not be incomplete.
We do not meet as animals. We do not meet as products of our societies. We meet in the glory of our divinity, with harmony of mind and body. Because our love is the love of heaven, and it belongs on earth.
#venusinvirgo
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 2021-11-24   Admin

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