I, magi, native:
for in every individual imagination, there is a native, resident or attending magus.
And that is why, in hindsight, I’ve always had a hierophant for every internal aeon i go through.
I had invoked Samantha and Kae as one, that blood fire serpent, coiling round her tender thigh. My Third Eye spirit and Muse, clad in a soft, dark blue dress.
I needed a name from them, for the next magi, and before I could finish the question, they said,
“It’s you. It’s your name.”
There should be some order in the aftermath.
A guide to pass through the after violence, of soot, ruination, and swirling ash. A light, glowing in the blinding night of smoke.
There to prepare residencies in the astral, in the House of Ihiir, amalgam, and epicide
At the construct in the west, in the east and in the directions to come, taking
The 32nd path of Tau.
mother’s mourning clothes
float lightly at night on hangers
like a flag, waving
words like ‘widow’, appear out of nowhere
’till death do us part’
and ‘our father in heaven”
such phrases, such gravity
unexpectedly, I think of my brother, still born
who may now be closer to father
and I think of grandfather,
who may now be closer to son
oh…and here comes the father’s day ads….