I feel most alive in moments of ritual, clad in nothing more than a diaphanous black dress that barely covers my thighs. The cold chain which wraps around my waist is a reminder of how tangible my form really is. I dance the circle in bells and sweeping motions. One step begins the dance.
I lose myself in the drum beat, in the cadence of my words.

There is nothing but me and Him. His teeth are dripping with saliva and blood. The blood is mine.

The air around me is thick, and although the winter seeps within this timeless space, the warmth rises from within my bones. There are stars behind my eyes, burning bright and exploding into particles of dust.

I am no longer inside of the room, upon the red blanket,  but within His arms; Universes exploding and imploding upon each other, dancing themselves into oblivion.

“When one world ends
something else begins
but without a scream
just a whisper because we
just start it over again”

– Marilyn Manson “The Fall of Adam”


3 thoughts on “Ritual

  1. I especially love two lines of this writing:
    1. At times my dreams are more real than reality.
    & 2. The title: Every speck of dust contains a world.
    Both are very true & thought provoking.

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