Lorenzo Buford
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He wanted me as a woman
not a woman with a phallus. He took my phallus and made it a cross for me to bear for me to cling to for me to sacrifice myself upon so that I render myself always to his beliefs. And I cling to the cross made from my phallus while trying not to drown in his emotional storm; and his denial strikes at me like a judgmental finger. Once I had six fingers. My father severed them as I clung to his boat his religions, as I am drowning in his moisture while clinging to remains of dying redeemers while crying out not to be abandoned as his male daughter. But he wanted me in a human form for my mad wanderings were disrupting the path of the Archetypes. So my severed fingers became guides in his dark waters as whales, dolphins, walruses and a phallic sea god. And my tears became the oceans within the minds of his Old Ones; and I dropped a part of the mixture of our waters into men so my father killed me by severing my holding on him; and now, I let go of his boat, his religion his dead and dying patterns so that I may drown in the mixture of tears and blood his water; my moistures. So now I wander the depths of our entwining minds as a mad male crone, a phallic woman who walks among men looking for a father's love as I become The Suffering, the vehicle of daemonic darkness and the elixir of transformation. I will no longer hold the phallic cross that keeps me afloat in his chaotic waters. I will become my own Father/Mother/Lover. |
