Table of Contents
This is an altar of exposure—not for spectacle, but for spellwork.
I place my wanting here.
Along with my wonder and my wounds.
I speak from beneath the skin—
from the place where myth and memory braid into flesh and bone.
You are welcomed here not as a witness,
but as a reflection.
Opening Invitation
Slow down. Come closer.
Not to watch or to listen, but to remember.
Let your body do the listening. Let your shadows speak.
If something in you tightens
or yearns—
that is the threshold.
So if you’re willing, take a breath…
And we’ll fall inward together.
The video that follows is not to be listened to, but entered.
I am an altar in motion. A mouth parting between worlds.
Both tomb and temple—to the body’s scripture.
Forged by the divine to throb with appetite.
My worship moves like moonlight.
It hums in the hollows,
shivers like silk between realms.
<aside>
< pause for an inhale >
Let this image settle across your skin.
< now exhale >
</aside>
Mid-thrust: A somatic myth
This language is of marrow and moan.
My tongue speaks it in nectar and sigh—
spills wet vowels in a dialect of molten longing.
<aside>
< inhale >
Notice your mouth: the warmth between breath and tongue.
< now exhale >
</aside>