Be strong. Courageous. Lie down
between her legs. Slowly inch your head and so dock upon her
womb. Pause and be still. Listen with astral ears to her story.
That of her abandonment by Him, of Her Obliteration. But pay
attention, so that you are not seduced, sucked
in and spit out! For all that you have ever left here before has
been this Memory of Her as Rib. All only the Memory of jerking
off. There is that of Her that seeks revenge! ... Be strong. Persevere.
Place your hands alongside her buttocks. Press your
face upon her womb. Whisper to her with your soul.
Dance with her with your tongue. Praise her as the food of
life, as the sustainer, for from her comes the power to reproduce
and manifest new life. Speak with her, and impress upon her with
your attention that you worship Her presence. Reach and rest hands
upon her breasts. Imagine yourself as within Her. Curled up in
fetal float. Awash within her. Then unfurl and stretch your body
at match to hers. Here, now you are her spine. Twined bodies. And
you touch her third eye, drawing its attention to your blindness,
that blindness within, which only her beloved eyes heal. Sense
yourself as she feels your presence, as at prayer with her .
When she comes to you, humbly recognize
that you have never been crowned before. No, confess that you have
been armed, primed, had your fuse lit, gotten her to turn your
crank, but not crowned. You have never been properly worshipped
as precious Reed. So, great courage must be yours to face the fears.
For all that Memory holds for you is the Lone Male god slicing
into Adam’s phallus to draw the blood with which He created
Eve. This is Memory only of the fear of Her as
Reed robber, ball buster, as the temptress who will get you to
shoot your wad so that, in your weakness, you will do whatever
she says. But this need not be so.
Lay your hands aside his buttocks. Look at his phallus.
Stare at it. Work to peer through and beyond it. But recognize
it for the Dream it manifests. For sure, as you approach, his precious
Reed salutes. (If not, rouse him from his lair!) And as his phallus
rises, imagine him as root. As root growing into shoot and from
shoot into tree and from tree into that which as totem links the
ground and the sky.
Continue—Crowning
