On Rapé & Rebellion

And in a glimpse. Cracks are revealed in this matrix, as vertical lines of green code emerge -, just barely. In this liminal state, the in-between shimmers as a portal to dimensions before, and dimensions still. 

Your spirit beckons, I oblige. Your body shifts, I am invocated. Your expression forms, I come undone. Akin to a magnet, my blood yanks me to you. Sweetness emanates. Inescapable intensity becomes sovereign. 

I take your communion – in hope to taste a reunion. Or is it union? It matters not for in this state, intellect is usurped by emotions which reign.  The primordial arises – and the gut’s biome salutes. The mammal finds its origin. Emotions run savage. The rational dissipates, catapulting radical desire.

Rendered senseless, my state intensifies. My skin craves to fuse with yours, as my nails tear into your essence to find its deeper truth. A blood debt birthed? I inhale your scent – as my sensory neurons rewire and my receptors organize. Your very molecules absorb into my aura, and my body shivers in want. A want so overpowering immerses. 

Reason falters for but one desire: You. Thirty-seven years of organization submerge, as paradigms built over millennia past come undone. 

Your body dictates, and mine obeys in worship. Your breath sounds, and my lungs inhale in submission. My mouth waters in anticipation of drink. Your tongue alive, my yearning omnipresent. My want burgeons still. 

With each utterance of words, my world comes undone at your expression. My passions prove incandescent as my blood vessels comes alive in the afterglow. The reckless becomes my religion, overpowering the sacred of origin and enlightenment; And, Vajrasattva’s 100 syllable mantra stands futile against softening my sacred want. 

My longing intreats your source energy. 

My teacher came, as quickly as he leaves. He departs with marks etched in every aspect of this being, material or otherwise.  He brings gifts. He adorns this body in ordained gold chains, a metaphor for that anoints my rebirth. He generously shares his spiritual guides. My brave embarks on his cleanse in witness of me. With his journey initiated, its effects permeate the atmosphere and his corresponding tears that fall in adulation of gravity glisten in the glass reflection of my eyes. 

And so, forehead to forehead, he places the elysian Rapé in my one nostril ever so ceremoniously. His reassuring glance cradles me. He counts to three and forces the medicine in me with intention. I am initiated. My body quivers and mind is shook. The latter revolts searching to anchor. 

He cradles my head, ever so gently placing his touch on the sides of my head. He caresses my hair in circular motion ever so gently. Consciousness again returns in bondage to this corporal body, and the life threads to this world reinforce. Yet, intensity prevails, while this world (and all its archetypes) fade. What a contradiction as clarity emerges. 

The blind in me starts to see in reverence of not what enables us to see, but what allows us to see. In song that is unwritten, my body quivers. Realizations prevail - yet not from what enables us to hear, but that authority which makes it possible. Not from what facilitates touch, but the essence of being grants its permission. 

My eyes firmly shut, despite which I find myself deep in sight. He clicks his fingers around my being and whistles in cognition of my halo. 

Tear meets tear. My pain connects with his. The Lord Janus is conjured, and male meets female. In the realm of the experiential and terrestrial, my wings reassemble. In the heavens, our bond is ignited. 

Soul touches soul. Consciousness fuses consciousness. Lips wed lips. 

Tears continue to shed – for lifetimes past, for pains present, and for nothingness still. My eyes finally wide open, only to be received by his tender gaze. 

Sanctified, stillness finds me. Ever so loving. Ever so free. Ever so sacred. I am adorned in his being. Self meets self. Heart meets creator. 

Newly brazen, my spirit ruptures its jaded chains in invocation of a higher self. Immediately aware of this shift and complete in its knowledge,  he whispers so gently, “stop”, as his loving gaze attunes to mind in realization: I am besotted and in love. And he is in full-knowing of transference and its unrelenting power. 

The mind rests. Time freezes. Mantras chant with frequencies that embrace. And just like that, the teacher absconds. And a soul most alive jolts into wake. 

And days go by.