From time to time memories create new timelines in the sex and death magical perspective. Love works like a verb and seems ephemeral at best. It comes and goes, waxes and wanes much like life itself. A great life ends and those who remain reflect for a moment and the accomplishments, the leavings can have a legacy much as lovers do in our memories.

I always remember that these things can make the next script of passionate endeavor and that destiny in most accounts seems a dangerous determinism. Death seems the only destiny, preceded by life. Life works like a fractal of beauty, terror, and ecstasy…

I am the visage, the purveyor of charm, the lurker in your heart.

I am the colony you want to love and try to hate and disqualify to no avail,

I am the enigma, the puzzle, the one who appears sweet and deadly,

I move through the veils, unimpeded,

When I touch you, your skin wants to wrap itself around me and sometimes hesitates in the fear of abandonment.

You want me to own you.

You know I am the Baron of those things, those lands of passion.

So you test, test, test. You won’t be ignored or cast aside.

I hold you in my appreciations and you run from my affections,

And I laugh in understanding.

Your instinct that pulls you toward me compels in fire and depth.

Your instincts feel correct; they have anchored down to the cellular level.

Your mind seems singular yet expands like its own universe

And in combining with mine creates a multiverse.

So don’t deny yourself the combinations and recombinations in ecstatic bucking,

Don’t deny yourself the parts that meld with me,

When it flows it talks, it grows into long walks and more talks

And in the shifting of your palace on that jade stalk, that mighty and loving mannerism that begets caresses beyond the niceties you think feel safest…

          FOR OSHUN AT THE RIVER. SHE SAVED MY LIFE.