Memoir: Epiphany

She's here with me now. I can't see her, but I feel her green and golden, lissome with budding seed, gilded in the works of man. I smell the incense fighting with the salt spray spitting on my face. That which yields overcomes that which resists. Water crashes on cliffside— it seems all in vain until the cliffside comes crumbling down.

So soft. Even when she burns me, purges me in her fire, the flicker of flame against skin is insistantly sweet. She sidles her way into my innermost marrow and she is my master again. She hurts me; I let her. She hates me; I love her.

Will I shake off my wilfulness and lower my head to her yoke?

I don't know how to do anything else anymore.


Greje channeling the Goddess Aphrodite. Much thanks to Quill @ Genesis for the artwork!

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