& Weil sees holy unmaking as denial of self. But I choose the I & imagine it as erotic gesture, as receptive undoing, not of the body, but into it. into it.

And in reaching for the divine, it is through the wound  and through the mouth where darkness is not darkness.  He says it will be light.  Treat these passages as fiction. There are multiple women  inside my head, and multiple voices sharing my tongue.  Know, that it doesn't come from the heart, it comes from the sex, the erotic. That being this,        being me, being.  And I am myself and not myself. My mother says I'm  all wrong, that I'm dirt and mud. She wants me to be  closer to God, but He already lives inside me. And                as so said    surrender       this. Yield. No. Not to this, but to This. Self-written liturgy. And that I, meaning Eve, meaning I, love both He and the serpent. I don’t mean to betray you. I mean an apple is more than just an apple, I mean the feminine and the flesh, I mean I write my own beginning.

And Eve flickers at the edges. I call her hunger my own,  her disobedience my own. Simone, there’s another way. *** THE EROTICISATION OF FEMALE SUBMISSION.  The Story of O and how to be the perfect woman,  secretary and slave. The mouth eternal  and open—open—I open  at your command,  your meaning man meaning God  meaning  you want it. Do you want it? I want it.  I meaning mad meaning stripped of all will  to desire, to have and to hold desire.  I have forsaken Athena. I have eaten the owl I'm wearing the owl, and you meaning I, meaning you         meaning                dissolve the I                                     meaning Simone                   I understand I understand.

*** FAITH IS GRIEF IN RUINS And what’s one more shut door? The castle is a house of cards, the body probes the question of divinity, the answer is absence, is nothing. Are you solid or liquid? Flesh or spirit? Which God do you pray to? And forget all measures of salvation or sacrilege. Every circle is a glory hole, and my altar is a collection of tongue and teeth, burnt plastic, keys, rings. Kneel. Tell me which God do you vote for? What's one more bone without the marrow? What's one more broken clock? But what I meant was surrender. What I wanted was unholy. Happiness is a monetary illusion.   And         suddenly,        I can say              God ***

That the presence of the gendered he is what troubled me. Because we struggle to separate God from man, and man thinks he is God when he is simply man. God lives inside all of us. Yes. But No. You are also a body, and that makes you fallible, vulnerable, beautifully tragic. Accept it. Instead of punishing us for the rigidity of the systems you subscribe to. Meaning Simone, I understand, I understand There’s another way. *** And Feeling, Flesh, Feminine—opaque, is a site of sacred knowledge.