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She's a 10 but has a thousand eyes six wings and is covered in fire
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Elijah in the Wilderness, Frederic Leighton, created: 1877–1878
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Divinity is a splitting headache, fire eating its way down my throat, the blunt scrap of nails up and down my arms again and again to let it out let it out let it out. It shouldn’t fit. How does it fit into a body so fragile?
Divinity is creaking bones, the sharpness of each vertebrae shifting wrong wrong wrong. It is teeth shredding through lips, and ankles cracking with each rolling step. It is ribs straining against lungs carrying the breath of a still-living star.
Divinity is burning eyes. Burning as it tries to slip through the thinness of them. Burning as images imprint themselves on my eyelids, the lightning of holiness. Stardust is staining my eyes. They are dripping ichor.
Divinity is eating me alive, and leaving glimmering crystal sconces in it’s wake. I open my arms and welcome the devouring. It will shape me, remake me. I am eager for the Awakening.
Divinity takes no prisoners.
I am not a prisoner.
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I haven't disappeared.
Dormant but working.
Communication is hard.
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Oh the memory of these careless summer days will linger like sweetness on the tongue
// Part 24
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Sonnets To Orpheus: Second Part, Rainer Maria Rilke 1922
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Reggia di Venaria, Italy, photo by Maria Elena Pini
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