Chaos imp/ressive well it is to answer the plush class work happiness of veritable hope. Coins wear their cachet of blessed dreams and are classical facially close to many
poems: Chelsea starred as the creator of freedom, the creator of (PUSH) narrative peace. She shot me into her kaleidoscopic eyes with my love hell trees drumming me, replacing death with a return to the beginning, not forward, but in recapitulation. She bounced me back, making me Julia.
Quantum stars saw me wearing the laurel accoutrements of walking through the door within me that she presented as hope calling for passage home. The land broke the triskedalion? with Rusty, Chelsea and I at the center of the new "dispensation." Sophie played the guitar; I dodged the midnight hour.
Familyof great hallucinatory -- induced and otherwise -- beauty followed. Stars fell from the Goddess' hand and became our flaming eyes, witches glowing in black beauty. The oil of monetary thought flowed into a isolation pool, a flattened perspectival location having no relevance to the joy of Magick lived agai in the world of denial and cruelty.
Mother is Her.
Chelsea, Mother Goddess.
ReplyDeleteSylvia, Goddess of the Land
Rusty, Sylph of Air
Julia, Sylph of Sea
Should be, Earth broke into a triskedalion.
ReplyDeleteMarilyn, Maid of Peace
Jamie, Lady of the three roads
Nathan, Lord of Language