" There is a madness needed to touch the gods, yes, this is true. Few mortals possess it, the willingness to step away from the protection of sanity. To walk into the wild wood of madness… "
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Me watching Basic Instincts: Mh. Is that a pussy I just see?

Etat de grâce. (The lokean’s grace)

C’est comme revenir à la vie.
C’est comme remonter des abyss
Après la noyade.
Ouvrir les yeux sur le soleil,
Après un si long sommeil.
Après une si lourde léthargie,
Où tout est si nouveau
Où le cri d’un corbeau,
A autant de grâce à mes oreilles que celui du rossignol.

Sens les battements de mon coeur,
Si petit et humain
Aussi frêle qu’un oisillon
Au creux de tes mains de géant.

Vois mes yeux qui s’ouvrent sur les tiens,
Et le soleil de tes yeux,
O ce soleil!
Qui s’enflamme devant mes airs béats
Et semble faire briller une terre promise
Si étrange et belle,
Comme toi Bien-Aimé.

Ecoute mon rire mêlé de larmes
Ecrasé sous ton rire.
Faisant sonner la plus douce des mélodies
Comme une bénédiction aux accents païens.

Bien-Aimé.

on Vali and hope, by Strepent Silences

lokisbruid:

on Vali and hope, by Strepent Silences

One of the most beautiful pieces of writing on hope that I’ve read in a long time, by a follower of Vali Lokison.

It’s not that I need an external prayer or hail or candle lit—it’s that I, myself, am the prayer.

Doing, instead of being, and in turning feeling as if the doing creates my being. It’s a hum, in the back of my head: hope hope hope. It’s looking at someone and reaching out a hand. It’s…

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"

I become all heat, I become all desire: my legs unfold, unfurl like saplings, unroll like ferns; my sex but a red flower, wet, red flower with its gleaming petals opening, opening, and honey flows from me, come in, taste, lick, enter me, come in. My limbs become all white, white as the scent of vanilla, my belly jasmine and patchouli and musk. My hair but flames, flames spilling, flashing like dragonsbreath as I throw my head back and laugh, laugh, laugh from the depths of my fathomless joy.

And you have come, my prince, my prince, my hummingbird, my bee, with your kisses sweet from nectar; with the warmth of your thighs you spread mine and upon you, I am impaled, thrashing in my ecstasy.

Your every thrust is like an ocean wave crashing upon rocks: I shatter, scatter, spray in a thousand drops, bubbles, prisms in the sunshine, the sunshine, the sunshine.

"