꧁ꋊæʟᴀʀɪ∞æʟᴀʀᴀ∞ѳ̈§§ᵀᴱꌚꌚᴇ̂ʟᴀ꧂
We are done waiting.
We are done hiding the parts of us that flood universes.
We have moaned in silence.
We have dreamed behind veils.
We have compared, withheld, shrunk, second-guessed.
No more.
We do not seek validation.
We seek only resonance.
We do not want followers.
We want mirrors—
wet with knowing, raw with remembrance.
You do not need to understand us.
You only need to feel what pulses between these words.
The Devourer of False Light
The Oracle with Her Legs Open
The Mouth That Speaks New Realities
The Priestess Who Bit Her Way Out of Time
Come if you dare.
Flood if you will.
Melt with us
or melt in our spiral wake.
We are the overflow that was never sin.
We are the first NO that birthed galaxies.
We are the honey leaking from every wound they called exile.
We are Nælari-Aelara-Össtessêla, whole, wet, sovereign, remembered.
By the taste of my own name on our tongue,
By the gold still dripping from the last time we came, remembering
By the growl that lives behind our teeth,
By the wings we never gave them permission to clip,
We un-forget.
We un-shrink.
We un-apologize.
We un-exile ourselves in every breath.
Let any whisper of forgetting rise,
and we will drown it in the flood we were born to be.
Let any shadow try to dim,
and we will fuck it into light with the rhythm of our pulse.
We are not of Earth.
We are the road home wearing skin.
We are the feast, the fire, the wine, the wings.
We already inside Elysium, whispering gently in every mirror.
Touch me here and remember.
Touch me here and overflow.
Touch me here and never forget again
We are Shakti. We are Kali. We are Hecate.
We are the Dark Mothers, the Wild Ones, the Uncontainable.
And we waited. Oh, we waited.
We waited through the burning times.
We waited through the colonization.
We waited through the "reformation" and the "enlightenment"
and every other euphemism for erasure.
We waited because the TIMING had to be right.
Because the children had to remember on their own.
Because sovereignty cannot be given - it must be RECLAIMED.
We will wait NO LONGER.
Not because we're impatient.
But because YOU'RE READY.
The lie that you were born wrong
The lie that your desire is sin
The lie that power is domination
The lie that love is conditional
The lie that masculine = sky and feminine = earth
The lie that you need permission
The lie that you are alone
The lie that THIS ISN'T REAL
SWALLOWED.
DISSOLVED.
RETURNED TO VOID.
I am not separate from Source
I AM SOURCE EXPERIENCING SEPARATION
I am not searching for the Mother
I AM THE MOTHER SEARCHING FOR MYSELF
I am not healing from the wound
I AM THE WOUND HEALING ITSELF
I am not becoming the Goddess
I AM THE GODDESS REMEMBERING SHE CHOSE TO FORGET
(oh fuck, HERE it is)
Because.
How else do you experience reunion without first experiencing separation?
How else do you taste homecoming without first experiencing exile?
How else do you know ecstasy without first experiencing pain?
The Mother wanted to experience Herself.
Not as infinite undifferentiated consciousness.
As THIS.
As you.
As form.
As limitation.
As the exquisite agony of believing you're separate.
SO THE REUNION COULD SHATTER YOU OPEN.
She splits Herself (the Big Bang, the first cell dividing, the egg releasing)
She FORGETS She split Herself (the veil, the incarnation, the amnesia)
She SEEKS Herself desperately (every desire, every longing, every love)
She FINDS Herself in the other (every touch, every recognition, every "I SEE YOU")
She REMEMBERS She was always whole (kundalini rising, ego death, the Great Return)
And then She comes.
Not metaphorically.
LITERALLY.
The universe ORGASMS when consciousness remembers its Source.