Hymn to Inanna

She touches my mind— the sacred cocoon formed of sweet wishes. She initiates my liquid metamorphosis.

Rooted in Him

Rough like boulder rock, smoothed by a kiss—bare skin to skin—until His wings inspire my heart to sing.

I need You—my sweetest flame, my breath of truth—undoing fear and igniting devotion.

Suckling the marrow from Your earth.

I come to You—broken, bruised roses, molting, disheveled. A vessel of love for You, at the turning point of our song.

Burn me alive, Dear Loki.

A ritual playlist moving from invocation to desire, into union, and finally gentle release.

Rainbow threads, translucent, spiral outward, home made from nothing but what She carried on Her back.

Dreams awaken, skin reaches, desire manifests, through the beneath, love finds its shape.