“I’m thirsty and I’m water and I’m drowning. That’s my love.” I told him…

She rolled over and saw that she was still all alone. A gurgle in a hollow shell, a roar inside the sea. A tempest in a night of rage, a ripe apple falling from the tree…

I was out there that night and it wasn’t safe. A red rose hanging from a stick- suspended in between the vapid and the vain -drawing a line between the wild and the weak- blurring the touch between pleasure and pain- a golden thread tied my heart from the sky to the deep- while the hawk watches -and the eagle preys -and the vulture eats- and the mouse keeps running…

It’s all about me and my fortress, I know…

I’ve seen it all before, like the spread of the tarot- you can’t fight the card with no face.

And I was out there that night waiting for the horse and it’s rider. I was supposed to be ready but I wasn’t- because ready meant willing and I’m never willing to ride on the back of anyone’s horse. But I’m here and I’m blindfolded and I have a story to tell you about the meeting of pleasure and pain and grabbing the horse by the mane…

maybe it’s not a story maybe it’s a storm that’s coming and I’m just not ready to look at the dark swarm of his fury. Or maybe I blindfolded myself to make the night more interesting -and here I am laying outside in the rain- waiting for the sound of thunder rising from the earth..then I’ll know he’s here…the pounding hooves of the shock that shakes do not wait for an answer. He just comes and swoops down and grabs you and takes you -and the wild horse never stops running, pounding the earth, fuming and silver beneath the wet moon- And it happened to me..and I asked for it. I do it all the time.

And I lay draped over the beast and he just kept running. I was blindfolded and I couldn’t see a thing. I could hear him breathing and I could feel throbbing steel. I could smell the skin beneath his mane. Is it a horse or a man, is there a rider at all- you see, I don’t know I’m blinded by me.

He ran even faster over the light- and I was bruised, limp and torn- but never did I fight- because I was invisible to the rider of the night. But still he fed me at times things I couldn’t eat -but I did -and I swallowed- and I branded the seed. Thorns and thistles and I smell burning hair. Horns and whistles and my stomach lies bare.

The trap on the moon said I shouldn’t go there. And so he whipped me and spanked me and he taught me to share. Sweet Saturn, I always find you there. I find you on her clamping the jaw. I find you in fur, wild and raw. I find you in solace born of the moon. I love you and need you my broken cocoon. I know that you hear me because you’re never far. I know that you’ll cover me in all that you are.

The lines have been drawn but there’s no one to see. The seed has been spilled between you and me. The born and the dead those shaking or still.
They come crooked from you, the threat of God’s will.

So I’m not a fool and I’ve given you good. And you came and you took me like I knew that you would. And you hurt me and you held me and you spoke through the fire,

“I love you white moon, shedding tears for the crier. Burning ice, folding waves, giving love to the dier.”

Dier means dying. Just like hustle means seed. Cryptic means nothing. Just like flower means weed.

And my sweet Saturn is blue while he sits on the moon. And his horse is waiting outside of the room. And I have nothing left that I haven’t borrowed. My body is yours, will you come back tomorrow?

I think I’ve been bad and you told me it’s true. I think I’m in trouble because you are you. Saturn embraces and erases the girl. Saturn is the
God who gives her the pearl.

There’s nothing to remember when I get off the horse. Except that I’m sorry- and don’t spank me of course. And I really don’t think that you thought I would say this. But you’re there and I’m here and I’m blowing a kiss…

into the night where the story began.
Into the shadow where we ran and we ran. Over the top and into the deep.

Saturn says, “What you’ve sewn you shall reap.” Seeds of my love, may they grow while you sleep…

and so I gave him my soul, my heart and my rage and he said, ” Don’t you see it’s only a stage? ” There is nowhere to run and maybe she’s dead. The flame has gone out and the baby is fed.

“But I love you. Don’t leave me.” I said.

“Come over here and see what I’ve done. I’ve wiped your face clean and made you the sun.”

They say Saturn’s number is 666. And he tortures and rapes those that he picks. But I say, you don’t know him and I say you can’t see -because you’re still blindfolded just like me. But I came and I saw and I let him steer. And he held up his hand and he showed me his mirror.

So you just don’t know him and what he can do. He’ll give you the morning from the dark side of you.
Love me true baby blue.

Sharada Devi

4 thoughts on “BLINDFOLDED”

  1. The rose knows
    how love grows
    it’s heaven scent

    Sending a heart-full of love out to all you sun-day souls
    who have come together in the motherlight

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