Squint and look at them close, my love, and you’ll see I’ve written the last to-do list you’ll ever need on these whimsical sculptures.
My suspension was a liminal space between life and death, and I saw the great mysteries reveal themselves in the Spider Woman’s busy work. I saw reflections of babes born and rock stars die in the black mirror of Her belly, and I saw the wild magick behind this so-perfect, so-flawed web in ...
She’s long gone. She is hot-spark divinity embodied in goose-bumped skin and framed by spiraling bones. She is the high, rebel Priestess, now she knows it, and she could never return to the too-small, so-quaint life you were offering that made you God and her, disciple.
I’ve got some tales to tell that are too good to keep secret; let’s write of our debauchery in a new scripture where the verses speak of hard-nippled freedom and hedonistic revelry. Our parables will be recited by snickering, paper-skinned grandmothers after the little ones are in bed, and our ...
I built this walled garden to be my sanctuary from the likes of you, and, if my boundaries threaten you so much, you best be on your way.
Love me like Lilith loves the wild, like the outcast loves rebellion, and like the beasts love their freedom. Strap me to your back and take me home.
She is a living mandala of light and shadow, and she owes you nothing; she is the cocooned Creatrix unfurling wings so fragile they would crumble in sunlight.
Stand steadfast when the renegade, nameless Goddesses spread their black wings wide and become Her demoness Air Force. Burn these events into your memory, for they are the only ones that will matter soon. This is not the apocalypse, this is the dark moon dawn.