the blackest wings
held me
cradled in feather ink
crow’s
the blackest wings
held me
cradled in feather ink
crow’s
i hear a raven’s
voice echoing
croaking
and cannot see him
but know he’s playing with me
divine mimicry
the trees rustled and whispered
let it go
let it go even though you don’t know
let it go
in the rain
hair soaked
and flattened
against my face
flame and water
steams my heart
A Lokean Devotional Vignette
The wind pulled my hair down. Jötunn fills my eyes.
Loki blew me a kiss and trees bent.
the wind lifted my hair
and I was a little girl again
in play with the elements
An Intimate Lokean Devotional
“Trust me, please.” His voice rasps.
Sheets and soft bedding become forest green, sun-sheltered branches.
He guides me deep into a secret passage of my heart.
The sun touches me, he touches me.
The branches fan over me, he leans over me.
Light kisses my body, darts away and then back, playfully.
I know he’s found me out.
Loki’s grin tells me so.
I’m too immersed to care and wear self-judgment.
“I orgasm to trees.”
“So you do.”
I can’t care about it right now, I’m too happy to be discovered and let loose.
The realization comes gently. The trees were always safest to me.
He holds me, rocking me like a small child, as I face another layer of myself.
ghost bleached
bone dance
rattle sun
copper river
blood song
sun’s heat
my body
drinks you in
gold
I died
over seed
in topsoil
rendering tree
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