She pulled the curtain back just a little bit to see if He’d left yet. The house was dark inside, He had been looking for her for days…(and it was only a matter of time) musky curtains and the shadowy room filled her throat with a unquenchable strangling, parched and aching with memories…
This was her Grandmother’s old decaying house. Her evil and unpredictable always smiling and humming a tune to herself evil Grandmother. Yes, her Grandmother had finally died, although nobody who knew her ever thought that day would come. She had the tenacity and grip of an Arizona Scorpion.
“Come lay in bed with me Mary”
she would call from her bed down the long, narrow, dingy hallway…
Her feelings were never right for the girl. The long baths together, the body inspections “you’ve got to be a clean girl Mary, pure for Jesus. No man of God wants to fuck a slut Mary. Your man will be your God and
whores don’t go to heaven. You need to keep it clean Mary. Keep it plump and ready for The Lord. After all, God made you so you could make him babies. Be a good girl Mary. Don’t spread your legs so much. Nobody wants a slut’s babies…”
Mary always smiled too, that is when anybody was looking. She hated everybody though, thru the smile of cracking teeth she knew she was just as evil as the wrinkled She Devil
that lived at the end of the hallway.
She hated herself really…that she could ever make a baby with a face like hers. A face that from a certain angle looked just like Grandmother when she was young. The girl had seen pictures. She knew more about Grandmother than Grandmother had told her. Oh no, those stories were selectively chosen and edited, tailored for the girls ears, always with a lesson of purity and chastity attached. Grandmother was intent
that Mary not become a “slut like her mother” but Mary never knew her Mother so it was a one sided and open ended endeavor down a dark
hallway where the Mary Mother of God Altar was, right across the hallway from Grandmother’s room. The place where Mary was sent regularly to pray and repent for her “lies and impure thoughts” somehow only Grandmother knew these lurked inside the Girl. Grandmother knew everything.
“Poor Grandmother” the girl would tell her mangy, tabby cat, this cat Sheiba, her only loyal friend and confidant, the only one who really knew and understood according to Mary. The girl found the cat she named Sheiba under a low thorny bush in a field behind the house one stormy night, abandoned by her mother, starving for love it seemed to the girl. So the relationship began and Grandmother was tolerant with the friendship. It worked out well for Grandmother because she always had a hostage, a way to threaten Mary, a great fear to hang over her
filthy head. “I will mutilate this mangy cat you little bitch, if you don’t stop
swinging your hips like that” “I will put this thing in a bag with bricks and drop it into the creek if you don’t
stop watching those pornography movie films in this house. Don’t think I don’t hear you up late at night. God help me!” Of course the girl wasn’t guilty of the accusations but this was the world, the law, the house, the fate of Mary according to Grandmother. “Poor Grandmother” the girl would say stroking Sheiba while she purred on Mary’s lap.
“Poor Grandmother will never get me clean. Poor, poor Grandmother has to raise a slut” at first the girl didn’t even know what the word meant until she finally got the courage to ask the neighbor who lived down the road one spring day. A shining and cheerful woman in overalls and a straw hat, tanned with a slightly weathered yet optimistic and attractive face. Her beaming blue eyes and warm voice made everyone like her right away. The girl slithered over to where the woman was picking some flowers behind her rambling and bright country house. with chickens and goats and a bubbling creek through the front yard adorned with a myriad of fruit trees, a well tended vegetable garden and flowers everywhere perfectly manicured in her garden one sunny spring day. The girl edged her way from bush to bush finally nearing the bent over woman dressed in overalls and a straw hat
with long blond hair in a ponytail down her back. “Why hello Mary, how are you? How is your Grandmother?” the girl stammered, shy and intimidated by the pretty woman “I’m ok. What’s a slut?”
The woman’s head jerked up sharply
“What Mary? Where have you heard such words? Why would you say this?”
“I’m a slut. I want to know what’s a slut”
“Mary do I need to talk to your Grandmother and tell her you are using dirty, nasty words? You need to get yourself to church more often young lady” Mary could see she had upset the pretty neighbor woman and didn’t know what to do next.
“I’m sorry” she whispered eyes turned down.
“Now tell your Grandmother I said hello and never use such words again. ”
“Ok” the girl said quietly turning back to Grandmother’s house. The place where Mary lived. Thinking to herself that “slut” meant dirty-meant nasty. “I should have known” the girl thought turning the knob of the big creaking front door. She looked up to the sign that wobbled everytime the door shut “God Bless This Home” always hanging a little crooked. The girl wondered why Grandmother never noticed.
Mary wanted to be clean like Grandmother, pure. A lover of God.
The girl never meant to be a whore.
She decided that day that she would be better, be cleaner. Pray more. Be just like Grandma…

But He was patient and She was His Queen.

Are you wondering why I write and I say such terrible things? Are you worried my mind is perverse? That I’m not who you thought I was?
Think again my beautiful companion. I’m not who I thought I was either.
I’m everywhere that counts. Everything is bleeding and red. I’m as white as a dove. It’s a riddle. The chaos takes off her clothes when She needs to. I told you I was a stripper. I wasn’t kidding. What’s to hide? That’s a lie, inside is where we store the dark. Outside can be anything. Your yoga pants don’t fool me.

So now here we are inside the hole. Did you think you might not have one? Or are you just filled with love?

My Human Parts
a deeper place than heaven
I found between my legs
when the whore found meaning
white knuckled freedom from pain
I caught her lying there
laughing opened
with cold hard eyes
she said to me,
“it isn’t hard to find the answers”
the cart it seems, is deeper than the well…the mirror from the broken bottom tells all sorts of wounds….
from a reflection that reaches…
fishing for food…hooks into looking places, or the cadaver and the portal to peace. The words are in segments, the listener gets caught…
don’t turn around like that…running toward the echo…the chamber in the well, her silo and predicament…
(to heal sick fish just like us in the
phantom waters of yesterday)

making something new this time…
the fish swim up into her- the whore
and she looks right through them.
Many men we find ourselves
attached to her laughing eggs
that never hatching groan
that leaches hot from hot
and me from you.
It’s at the bottom of what never
changes that I wait for tomorrow once again.
My love for her in lunacy pulling
trip from trap again and again.
What she says to me is not in words
Her opened mouth in deep revival
churns and spooks the willing
back back back and under
before whatever came.
The ecstasy was never real
pull out before its too late.
It was then that I knew
why she left me, hanging from
her, dangling for more….
Crying into my only ear.
I heard her say
“you got it backwards
lift up your leg and call it quits”
I only have one.
One within one.
fucking for peace.
No love without peace.
“Lay down your weapon
you are no lover like that
get out of me”
Chimes and bells and
wicked screams
filled my heart at once
who was free and hooked
and loved?
Who was “all that matters?”
lying beneath her,
I forgot it all.

Pretend my dear, that you do not hear. Hear the
reason you came closer. Because I know your eyes and I’m looking in that hole and you couldn’t close it and now it’s too late. You came to me as fear entering the valley. Shadows eclipsing and days that won’t end. You walked in and you found me waiting for you. I wasn’t who you wanted but I’m the only one there is. Nobody
else will live here shuffling demons and counting moons for you. I’m playing this game with you remember? It’s spooky now, where we find ourselves and we’re looking for someone else.
But it’s only me and you came and you said
“I need you to help me. I need something”
Ok that’s what I heard. That’s what I always hear.
Through you smile and your glitter I see His dark hand across your face. I can’t pretend we aren’t
the the ones who did it. Something is wrong, yes I know. “Oh everything is perfect. It’s all as it should be. God will change everything if I smile and pray.”

If that’s true, why are you in my valley?

You entered on your own and you found me
here, the only one who stayed for you. I own this
valley and the wild dogs are my friends. I have nowhere else to go but through you as the many
nights you created long before this descent.
Don’t forget that you don’t remember. Did you forget me already? Once I see you, I never leave you. You can never turn back now, the entrance closed behind you. And when you think you’ve left this place, it’s only another night you’re digging. You never left. I’m right here watching you pretend we aren’t alone. That your clothes are on…but It’s me. It’s me. It’s me. I’ve become your fear. I never leave. If you didn’t change the locks, that’s your fault. I wish you understood what you wanted when you came here. She slaps very hard. Wake up! She
slaps again and again like water against rock.
A Wanderer shouldn’t be lost. Remember!

This forest is dark with many trees and this valley is deep with many secrets. I’ve even been
afraid of myself in this place. Dancing all alone.
And I’m still not totally comfortable here, even now, after He took me and showed me what I never wanted to see (I was like you with His dark hand moving across my face) He made me look and He taught me to dance and then He gave me the Valley. The dark Passage place of Her. I own it and I’m waiting for you.
Of course many are already here who think they’ve left me and are looping dormant and dim, in a slumber of delusion “It’s sad, but I keep them close” She said. It takes boiling courage, I keep telling you. The entrance closes once you step through. You can never go back! Stop clawing at my walls! Stop wasting time!
See, this is the Valley of Secrets. What lie have you told to end up here? All locked up with only one way to go. We’ve all done it …and the only way out is through…

I haven’t always been one person, I used to be two…and it was hard, and painful and terrifying. I was afraid of the evil I felt within…I couldn’t trust the “other” me…only the “good” me was trustable and worthy and “showable” to the outside world…I was comfortable with Her but not with HER. And I could feel HER rising from below, I would know in advance like when you see a storm coming and the sky turns black and the birds leave the sky….I would feel HER coming in this way….riding in on the wild storm that would destroy good me and I was helpless against HER. The closer SHE got, the more irresistible SHE would become until it was over. I was gone. Good me went down again into HER. It was reckless, destructive, magnetic, intoxicating, horrifying, tormenting and relentless I rocked back and forth on Her and HER for a long, long time. HER mouth took it all. SHE took everything I thought I had and I thought I was. And the first person to go was Good Her. Good Her was actually the biggest beast of all. The loudest dog with the biggest fangs. She eats you from the inside out so that you know, and once She’s done and you’re just a hollow shell of smiles and uncertainty She releases you back into your pathetic useless life as a people pleaser and a closet violent sociopath. Your smiles don’t fool HER. HER who I thought was Hell. HER who knows His reason for wiping it all away. She’s a wicked liar.

So Him and HER got rid of Her.

Why won’t you look?

I’m not alone anymore. He picked me from my bones and all the vultures fled the sky when they saw His Chariot appear…charging through the black wind…

His Black Fire Dragon Calls Me Midnight.

And I rise to meet Him just like that…pulled from my bones, less than an echo, but warm and still beating inside of you…I told you my love never dies.

coil stump
blue dead face
octagon surge
only the true will know
Her secret
black bag to carry
hold the stalk
look at me
my lonely hands
are searching
for the Diamond
in this cell
crawling without eyes
that see the sprawling hole
I was cut away
like the dark at dawn
the sun is coming
rising thru my neck
open to the sky
weeping inside the circle
holding hands
like wheels we spin
the luminous night
glowing naked
out of time
the symbol rises
looking closely
disassembled, everywhere
this lock confuses
the entry unknown
one cold eye
burning thru the black
while one star held the heavens
right above my head

One night many years ago while I was in the darkest of the dark of me I had a dream…
I was trying to get somewhere safe and important and I needed to be there soon…and I was carrying a small statue of the Goddess Kali (I didn’t even know who Kali was at that time of the dream) I didn’t know what to do because
shadowy figures kept surrounding me everywhere I went. I got on trains. I went down alleys. I climbed up stairs. I ran through fields.
Everywhere I went they followed me and watched me and I knew they were conspiring to kill me. It was very dangerous the places I kept going to escape this fate….then I realized that it was the statue that made them want to kill me and so if I just broke the statue they would leave me alone. So I got off the train and broke Her into pieces. Relieved I started walking happy that I was out of harm….then suddenly the shadowy figures were back and following me and I couldn’t escape them no matter what I did.
Then I voice said “You carry the curse of Kali”
I couldn’t get Her out and I couldn’t get away from Her. She was inside! So at that moment I needed to decide if I would be the hunter or the prey. We like to think we have a choice but it’s only a matter of time before you see that you can’t break Her. Oh, you can break yourself into pieces but not Her and She’ll become a thousand gruesome fragments of what you thought you left. You can’t escape the purpose of what He did and why He did it. This is Their holy matrimony. This is Their love for you. You, Baby Jesus. The Pure Lamb of Light.

I will attempt to weave the girl together
braid the madness
straighten the kinks
A lock on my table
a loaf of bread on my plate
let’s eat the listener
making words into wine
The girl understood that we had to break her
open upon the plate
She was wiser than we
who attempt the impossible

She bent and she burst
imploding, exploding
explanations into chaos
blood into the churning sea
we drink and we eat and
we don’t understand
the flesh and the blood
we hold captive

(Mary are you listening?)
So after that dream I began worshipping Kali because I was afraid and I wasn’t big enough to stop Her from finding Him anyway. I was simply in the way. Do you understand? I wasn’t big enough to be me anymore. “I love you but it’s over” I told the one hiding in shame. And that’s what I thought I did but it’s never over. I’ve been a liar for a very long time. But She hears every word and sees every deed and knows every time I die in Her name. What else can we do?

She will always be a winner with me on Her hook.

Sharada Devi


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