belly of the beast





(not) finite.


(you) misapprehend my hunger.


here. hold your hand to the night sky
to measure its depth
by reach
or
close your fingers
around the stars
and


tell me
  how many
  you can hold


tell me
  the distance between the darkness,
  your captured stars,
  and my
     hunger.


tell me
  you already had this dream
  that the sky
  is no darker
  than the belly
  of my beast.


tell me
  you understand that submission
  and salvation
  can both be found
  on your knees
	


	
	










	
	

		
Mandrake Root
	


	

		






It is said that darkness provides the cover needed to be our true selves.





There is truth in that. In the grace of dark cover, away from curious eyes, we are often granted the bravery necessary to acknowledge our more wicked sides.





But it is not enough.





Because it is only when you are seen as your most wicked self that it becomes something real. Something not just awknowledged, but embraced.





Listen.





You are most honest when held by a gaze that doesn’t judge. Under the eyes of someone who accepts all parts of you, you can unfurl, reaching towards truth and allow your walls to lower. It is there that you find fertile soil to let your hungers grow.





And I – I am large enough of self to provide the shade you need to be brave. I am confident enough to let the vines find purchase about my limbs.





And I am strong enough to help you nurture that garden that I might pluck the fruit from the vines, sink my teeth into plump curves, and savor your secret self.