I’ve been taken, abducted and loved truly to death


I jumped into the ashes on top of the fire knowing I couldn’t live without her. Earth, pile of twigs. Burn on the cross, drawn on the ground. Little secret. Big bone body, gone into you. No more telling. Fire of colors, raging storm flames, rain dies to end me and no one came. A soft pretty voice, gentle and gone. This is it. Family. Eternity. Home bright and disguised under death’s body. A little house, open door. I jumped and she fell. Through me. Astral, her unspoken name. Morning, a harlot never came. But I did. No more trying, this is it. Mounds of wood, wet and crying. Broken trees, bones giant and sturdy. Weeping girl, death makes all the sense in the world. At this point. Open groin. I wanted to know you, unlock every door. Secret. Now you’re burning and I’m inside, white destroyer. Ash body. Foaming mouth. Rabid incestuous species recreating sores from an open wound. Hot and reproducing the offspring of inevitable separation from self. Blood dried, open line. They wanted all of me, she took me. Unbroken.Β I jumped on, into the heat of her body. Bearing ash as my witness and knowing jesus never came. Not like God did on that morning. She smiled under sunlight, no skin, no makeup, no portal to forever. Just underneath me squirming like a fish. Under water flash. Sunlight shining, upward. Drowning. It’s the rock they never moved. In front of the entrance he rises. 3 days don’t last forever, no one is afraid. She’s in mourning. Beloved earth flower. Scorched. Heavy thorn. My agony. God fire. Clouds cover her in foam, water hides her best features. Just a body of stagnant water. Just an earth bearing bone. Just another mother crying for her son at death’s door. God, my burden is you. A prayer in her halo never stops calling for the one who left, left her hanging underneath me. A little girl, dying in the summer for her daddy. Wanting jesus, whoever her name is, however he makes peace. With or without soft dove feathers. Beloved, angel. He lies curled under a yellow cloth dreaming of her, petal by petal, unopened and lonely. Pictures of other girls on the wall, ripened and rotting. I don’t know what to say but thank you and sorry. I dove from the sky like a meteor. She was lost, he was over. Inside every heart is my sin, sun burning secret. That this isn’t it. She didn’t destroy, the child didn’t give up, God did. There was no savior at home. Wet inside, hard sacred body. A virgin of bliss, a messiah getting beaten. A line drawn on a map. A star, a cross where we fall. Lay down here. Die waiting. Burn seeking. Hail the sunlight through the mirror, water body. Rising crescent, tears between her unopened legs. Jesus was not born, he was unearthed. Excavated from beyond the grave of women. I love no one but my memory of that night. Between them both, mother and father of the secret womb. All for me, fire starter. Alone, men dying. Women seething. A world, a planet left in nobody’s ancient arms. Not even a light watching from the sky. The distant cloud, I wanted her and only because she always disappeared in the smoke. Smoky and away, far away from this god forsaken world. Religion, crisis. A golden sheet over my body. I came to meet death and he took me. The way a dream takes life. With his big eyes. Open bright and smiling without saying a thing. Not even goodbye this is over. Nothing, a waive of his hand over my fear. There is no wood in this fire. He was smoke, like the white cloud. He was rain, like her sadness, down her cheek, missing something silent and eternal. He was waterfalls and arms that break the hurt. He was empty of God like names and faces are empty of me. He was above me. A white sheet in the summer blowing gently, drying all the stains of wetness away. He was not something I can talk about like it could be real, it was unreal. All of her unbearable beauty. My meeting with death, deliverance, matrimony, no moment left. Was a torture so complete it tore open existence herself and consumed her innocence and took her withered life back up to the unseen stars. In secret, the book of flowers never touched. Down there where her omniscience is hidden. Virgin moon, underneath you death is revealed and all the worlds on the way open up through her. Death is a purity that nobody understands until he’s already destroyed your mind. Where the bodies are born that bewitch him. Until he takes you as his bride. Virgin bride with nothing but fire. Cold and blue. It’s a headache that doesn’t just go away on it’s own, not without her. A poison that kills pain. And all her beauty is because she’s a widow. Do you understand the red diamond, the broken hourglass? Red hourglass, still black body. Taking his face as her own. Pulling into herself every remnant of sound and breath and sexuality unbridled. This is the end, the end of secrets upside down- now and anymore. How you see her is what she becomes.


Then tonight, in the darkness as I lay here, an owl appeared above me. She was white and as perfect as danger. She looked like a Native American Shaman Owl bringing me an omen. I said, “I don’t want to know,” and then I changed my mind because she was wise. Hovering, growing pale, an evaporating cloud. She just stared at me until she disappeared and I saw myself in her remains which were emptiness. I knew I couldn’t be still in this chaos anymore. The red lines have been drawn on me and it is the end of my world. The widow could be everything if we let her. She could be the door. He told me that doors are everywhere and I believe him. Some would consider him God while others would see him as crazy. I see that the sun will be rising soon. I see that the owl’s face is mine. I see that the fire is underneath every vision. Of why the truth rises and falls like the days do. Life rages out of control lusting for death because only he can stop her. Find her, put her back in the ground. But of course then she strikes back from everywhere…as flowers or weeds or fog over bodies that bloom. I am in every cloud and the lightening is me…

I’ve been taken, abducted and loved truly to death. Β Sharada Devi


6 thoughts on “I’ve been taken, abducted and loved truly to death”

  1. The widow that is the door,
    under time, is over- on top of the games, letting them play, until it’s too late to stay out.
    Of course Jesus isn’t coming. “Save yourself”, you always said, but beyond that, where Jesus isn’t, is what is calling me. Or I think I hear in the silence. The widow’s cry, the only thing that is seen before the event horizon- where light gets sucked in to the place of no return. Death is real, says the fairy tale. Once upon a time- that sucks. Time is the black hole. But the one that lets it suck, or play, or tick- the smiling face when it is over, under the cloudy sheet that this is projected on, is bright and clear, empty of reason, that’s the star heart, I work for.

    1. Jesus is everywhere, he will always return. The black hole is an eraser, void of time
      and space. All that’s left is the Christ without any proof but black heart fire.
      Endless is the love that’s real, death’s birth mother. Her son, her womb, forever we
      are one. Follow the midnight Star back to the sun. Dark father. Who is all of the above. Trinity spiral.

  2. I heard you call me early this morning.
    A faint whisper waking me up.
    I wanted to deny it was you.
    Your light was brighter than any before.
    Your vibration resonates waves deep within my blood ocean.
    My body earth magnetically adjusts to the place between the light and the darkest caverns.
    Between fire and ice there lies an opening.
    A glimpse of an entire lifetime waiting.
    A freedom where all knots are untied;
    and all tangles removed.
    Where waste is not a product.
    I know you are here.

    1. πŸ¦‹πŸ¦‹πŸ¦‹πŸŒΈπŸ¦‹πŸ¦‹πŸ¦‹
      and so she cries for light
      out the bedroom window
      and back inside through
      the soul that knows
      all alone lighting the candle
      all alone she calls.
      We never know when
      will I see you again
      Light inside of me
      where I live
      lighting candles
      and praying for God
      to shine through
      into you my beloved
      who touches the morning
      with starlight and promise
      Of Her, ever returning
      to Me. Arms of light.
      Falling outside my window
      it was Her
      bringing you to me.
      Jaya Ma


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