Angels of Prostitution

Naamah, slender-ankled, with bells in your hair
you dance with a cymbal and summon old regents,
they sway to your lilting damnation and wish for
crimson lips and black curls to strangle, tangle.

Agrat bat Mahalath, the Night Howler, you rage
in a cage on a stage, braids like poisonflowers
you are desert storm and sandstone immortality
mistress of burning wind, you cry out for death.

Eiseth Zenumin, pretty cobweb queen, black widow
my end is your comb, fluttering between eyelashes
you pluck butterflies and crunch them, melodious
snap of antennae, monarch pains, birthing pangs.

Lilith Breakneck, queen of all courtesan angels
your throne is Samael’s lap, your whip abortion
infant corpses your throne, a gaze just like stone
I lose myself and perish on your breasts, alone.

Lilith and Eve in a Shadowbox

Lilith’s body is in the branches, her roots
coils of a wooden snake wrapped round Eve
it all starts with a Woman and a Tree, bark
the dark of the Mother of Monster’s skin,
her hair black as rue at midnight, greendark
Eve is always gold, hair brass, skin like sun
she lays like Aphrodite in her bower of grass
body curved in comparison to Lilith’s sharp
collarbone and ribs, Eve’s breasts heave as
Lilith probes her veins, snakes of bones all
tremble as the women join, it is a shadowbox
of two women trapped in each other, and I look
at the past of humanity and demon’s mothers –
Mother of Life, Mother of Abortion, clashing
in this diorama that Samael shows me in dreams
the dead are at the door, the Lilitu and corpse
children of Samael and Lilith, and I am New Eve
barricaded behind a door in a worn library, my
lover my monster, my past trapped behind glass
the Evil Queen sent her brood to bring me back
to her, and the Devil always hands me over to
his Queen, so I just laugh at how desperately
Lilith and Samael cling to a woman who does not
want them, blue languor eyes glance bone skin,
the bruise black Lilitu come, eviscerate me, I
am always breaking for the two of them, spilling
jewel guts for the King and Queen of Hell, and I
gave up asking after Lilith’s lips long ago, how
she is both Mother and Childless, Queen, Pariah –
but the shadowbox my corpse clutches to her breast
tells a different tale, of a simpler time, a quiet
temptation under the shade of an apple tree, with
a snake, a tree, a demoness, and an overcurious girl
who never learns not to kiss enemies who always end
up being the death of her, a sweet death, one that
tastes like the dregs of red wine, my blood fountains
Samael and Lilith both search through my viscera for
answers, but I never give up my secrets, no matter
how many daggers and scythes they dig into me, and
to be honest, I enjoy dying to wake out of dreams,
for at least when the Reaper truly comes, and Black
Madonna of Hell sings a lullaby, I will be all ready
to follow them down into Gehenna, to burn, smolder
and finally learn what drove demons to covet mortals.

Devil’s Masque

The pageantry, the placid glass –
eventide brings sly Devil’s Masque!
I Larva with gold lips, black eyes
a smile hidden under velvet lies.
The Devil is Arlecchino, master
of pomp, cane tap, dance faster –
lose yourself in Viennese waltz
hidden identity, swirl of a valse!
Skirts bell out, gentlemen lead
the ladies on like finest steeds
all Hell is resplendent, lowest
classes to high, a tango slows
the whole Masque down, Satan
rosins bow, croons strings in
we trade our masks amidst din
of lover’s quarrels, the flight
of bats, outside the blight
of plagues rage fast, sinners
bow to the Red Death, dinner
the flesh of forbidden pears,
silver wine, unearthly airs.
Lose yourself in Masquerade,
forget your name, come, trade
your mortal life for eternal
dance, the masque infernal
holds all Hell in his hands.

Daphne in Stone

I’ve lost my voice, my tongue is opal:
body limestone dripping in a mineshaft
I’ve become a marble girl, veined with
gold and glitter, but insides hollowed
where the rain of ages accumulates in
veins of ore, I am your pale China doll
eyes sapphire, hair brass patina, skin
hard and cold, my soul shakes, shivers
with every trembling of the earth, and
maple leaves of gold and orange blanket
me in a dress of forgotten elegance, I
struggle to lift a calcareous hand up
in supplication to the god that turned
me to stone – he pushed love, absolution
but I was ablution, cleansed myself of
his shattering touch, when you scorn the
eternal, they do not take well to iron
hearts, and will rectify rejection with
pillars of salt, the angels that saw
Lot’s wife fell in love with her, want
pinioned on adamant wings, so archangel
turned woman to wind worn rock, like I
am trapped, speechless, motionless, a
crumbling effigy of a forgotten whore of
a goddess, Inanna in the Underworld, and
my descent into the cavern floor whiles on
soon I will be rubble, only living on in
the memories of cruel suitors, when the
divine seizes you, claims you, breaks you
you will freeze as well, tree girl, statue.

Space Oddity – Chapter 6

Chapter 5 – Chapter 4 – Chapter 3 – Chapter 2 – Chapter 1

The hall beyond was a mess of flame and smoke.  My skin tingled as if mint had been slathered on it, but the fire had no other effect.  The centipede’s blood seemed to have fortified me against it.  Anunnaki corpses littered the ground alongside centipede’s mangled bodies.  Panic rose in my chest, but I beat it back with calm resolve, thinking back to the high school scrapes I’d gotten into.  Back then, having a clear head had been the most important thing about winning – that, and fighting dirty.  The flesh traders’ weaknesses were their eyes – all I had to do was puncture those to have the advantage.

I could see how the flesh traders had overtaken the ship.  Their sheer numbers, according to their carcasses, were overwhelming.  A discarded stun gun lay on the ground by a slender centipede.  I picked it up for an extra measure of defense.  I came to the heartwood hall and hid behind the entrance, listening for the presence of flesh traders.  Screeching voices came from inside:

“Where is the human?  Ajirin should have found her by now.  She’s the reason we boarded the ship.  Without her, the market value of our flesh is nothing.  We’ll be in debt to our supplier.”

One of them overturned something – a table? – in anger.

“Ajirin is unresponsive.  We should send more Brood into the photosynthesis chamber at once.  Brood stronger than Ajirin and his men.”

“Ajirin was the strongest we have.”

“Rot Father damn you, I’ll have to do this myself, won’t I?  Fine.  I will go there to capture her and the royalty.  Then we must leave.  This ship’s life support will run out soon.”

“Yes, Queen Mother.  I will prepare our craft for departure.”

The flurry of footsteps drew close.  I braced myself, clinging to the shadows of a burnt leaf.  In stepped what could best be described as the worst parts of a praying mantis and a wasp.  The creature towered over me, eight-limbed, with mighty pincers, a slender thorax, probing antennae, and a cruel stinger.  I held my breath, praying not to be noticed.  

Its antennae flicked my way, and its orb-like eyes zeroed in on me.  I cursed under my breath, trying to disappear into the wall.  No such luck.  My heart ricocheted off my chest as it gnashed its mandible.

“You’re a rare thing, aren’t you?” the commander said.  “Warm-blooded, four-limbed, with a calcareous skeleton and barely any height about you.  How exquisite.”

I backed away, holding my balled fists up in a blocking position.  The commander was at least ten feet tall, over twice my height.

The commander pushed a proboscis through its mandible and tasted my neck.  I fired my stun gun at it, but its exoskeleton simply dented.  The commander was too heavy for the impact to have any greater effect.  The commander rubbed its back legs together like a fiddle, creating a cricket sound that resembled laughter.

“You’re amusing.  Now put the gun down.  I want no harm to come to you.”

I fired another ineffective shot.

The commander easily overpowered me, wrestling me into a headlock and wrenching the stun gun from me.  She – at least the voice sounded like a she, high-pitched and feminine, but I couldn’t really tell – was careful not to bruise me.  I flailed to no avail.  The commander chirped and forced me into the heartwood hall, where a host of centipede Brood were gathered.  One was feasting on what looked like Gishkim’s corpse.  I flinched.

The centipedes shrieked at the sight of me, rattling their pincers on the floor.  A pair of them entered after us, carrying the limp bodies of Enki and Ishtar.

Before I could react, the commander lowered her stinger against my back.  She pierced me with the needle tip, and I felt something cold slide into my veins.  My vision grew hazy, my limbs weakened, and soon, everything was black.

 

Sleep-grit glued my eyes shut.  I blinked slow, prying my eyelids open.  A cold ocean sloshed inside me.  I groaned, bruises on my limbs smarting as I attempted to collect my bearings: as far as I knew, I’d been abducted by aliens from a B-horror movie, turned into the xenolinguist from Star Trek, and propositioned for kinky alien sex by my roommate.  My life was turning into something from Stranger in a Strange Land meets space pirates.  I wasn’t even scared.  Just angry.  

My vision focused, revealing a dim, metallic room where I was strapped to the wall by cold chains.  Ishtar was shackled beside me, her head wound covered by a gauzy substance that looked like spider webs.  Other sheath class Anunnaki hung beside us in the darkness of the circular room.  

I struggled to move.

“Ishtar?”

Ishtar gurgled.

“Ishtar, are you okay?”

Her single eye opened to a slit.  “Ziggi,” she murmured.  Her shoulder tentacles threaded through the air.  “I’m sorry.  I wasn’t expecting the Brood.  I only had enough venom to take out one.  And now we’re here on this godforsaken ship because of my father’s folly.  Sending us on this mission with an indefensible ship was a death wish.”  

I balled my hands into fists.  “It’s not your fault.  I couldn’t beat them either.  There was one that must have been ten feet tall.  She overpowered me in an instant.”

“Ten feet tall?”  Ishtar’s skin fluoresced.  “Must have been Ajaxas.  She’s the Queen Mother of the Brood.  Sterile and cold as a gun.  The Brood’s females die in childbirth, all except their Queens, who rule over the Brood with iron claws.”

“What a bitch”

“Ziggi?  You smell different.”

I sniffed hard, detecting nothing but my sweat and the odor of moist Anunnaki flesh.

Ishtar’s muscles rippled under her skin as she struggled against her fetters.  “Did you put Brood hemolymph into your biogauge?”

My eyes widened.  “If that was its blood, then yeah – I couldn’t interrogate the wounded one without speaking his language.”

Ishtar sighed.  “The improper dosage of hemolymph could have killed you – but I suppose you had no choice.”

I peered into the darkness of the room, not seeing my roommate.  “Where’s Enki?”

“The Brood separated us by gender to take inventory of our organs.  Those of us with the most unique physiologies – you, me, my brother, and Ratatosk – will be sold at the highest price to god knows whom or what.  Into a harem, into fighting rings, into labs – there’s no telling where we’ll go.”  

“Well, great.”

Ishtar spat venom onto the floor.  “If only I had a biomorph that was useful – I could change into something more machine than flesh.  But all I have is this form – DNA access to other species is highly restricted, and Enki had to jump through a plethora of hoops to get approved to morph into a human.  That form will be useless against the Brood.”

“So basically, we’re screwed.”

“In a word, yes.  The Brood are good at covering their tracks, and my father’s resources are already spread thin trying to suppress the axonal class.  What little military he can spare for our rescue will be few and far between.”

A cold light flared on at the center of the sloping ceiling.  A metallic buzzing like a horde of robotic bees grew as the light illuminated the room.  The room was vast, with the entire female population of the Anunnaki ship suspended from the walls.  

All except one.  At the center of the room was a shining table where a sheath class Anunnaki had been painstakingly taken apart, her strange organs pinned to a dissection board like a butterfly collector arranging his prizes.  

Silvery filaments – the mutilated Anunnaki’s neural matter – writhed like boiling spaghetti, and a single large, black eye twitched in a kind of vat.  Her severed antennae perked towards us, and her transparent skin struggled below its pins.

A scream died in my throat.

“I thought they were selling us into slavery,” I said.  “Why would they do that?”

Ishtar gave a rough laugh.  “To see how much the sheath class will fetch at market.  Most will be sold for food – we’re considered an aphrodisiac.  The outlaws of the Milky Way have translated their hatred of Anunnaki into a taste for our flesh.”

I turned my head away.

The buzzing grew louder.  

Ishtar narrowed her eye.  “Someone’s coming.”

A door on the far wall opened.  In stepped Ajaxas.  She clacked her scissor pincers together and opened her mandible, revealing that disgustingly long proboscis.  It flicked out to taste the air.

“I trust that you’re comfortable, your highness,” said Ajaxas.  “The Brood offer only the best to Anunnaki royalty.”

“Spare me your sarcasm,” Ishtar said.  “What will it take for you to free us?  Precious minerals?  More mercenaries than could fill a planet?  Ships?  Weapons?  On my honor as Abzu’s daughter, I can promise you that and more.  Keep the sheath class.  It’s my brother, me, and the girl that walk free in exchange for untold wealth.”

Ajaxas fiddled her hind legs together to produce a cricket-like sound – laughter.  “Abzu has no honor.  You expect me to believe that you or your father will keep your words, after your race ran my kind off our planet under the false pretenses?  I still remember the flames of the Burrow when I was a girl.  Your father’s fury rained down on my sweet Worm Mother’s earth.  The liberation of our prey destroyed our planet and made us refugees.”  

Ishtar bared her sharp teeth.  “You can’t blame me for my father’s misdeeds.”

Ajaxas fiddled her legs together.  “We are our parent’s failings.  Anunnaki especially so.  You’re no more protectors of the weak than you are preservers of order.  If your kind had any understanding of balance, you would have let the Brood be.  You pride yourselves on your knowledge, but the truth is Anunnaki are only good for fucking and eating.  No, I will not make a bargain with you.  Not when you will fetch such a handsome price.  I have Brood to feed.”

“You’re throwing away a ripe opportunity.  At least think on it,” Ishtar said, nictating membrane drawing halfway shut across her eye.

Ajaxas drew closer, idly stroking the Anunnaki eyeball in its vat.  “Stubborn, aren’t you?  Spoiled too.  No, I think I will sell you to the highest bidder, who, evidently, is on the ship now.  Come in, Seere.”

Ishtar shouted, struggling against her chains.

Her protests were useless.  In strode a red-skinned, towering alien, who I could only imagine as male.  Seere had horns on his sloping head, with a thick mane of black hair cascading down his back.  He was shaped like a centaur, with four legs, two arms, and a pronged tail.  A trio of eyes shone like flecks of obsidian on his brow.  His upper half was practically human, and downright demonic.  I felt like I had stumbled into a Hieronymus Bosch painting.  I half-expected Seere to be holding a pitchfork full of hot coals.  

Instead of being scared witless, a kind of cool fascination numbed my mind.  So this was my new captor.  Something off the cover of a death metal album cover.  At least he wasn’t Jabba the Hut.

Seere nodded at me, silent, and Ajaxas came to my side.  She pressed her pincers to my chains and they unlocked.  I fell to the floor, red marks on my skin where my bonds had held me.  I didn’t dare look up.

“Touch her and I’ll end you,” Ishtar hissed.

Ajaxas fiddled her hind legs, laughing.  She guided me to my feet.  I rose, my eyes downcast.  Ajaxas twirled me around as if I were a jewel on an auction block.

“You can smell the Anunnaki prince’s imprint on her.  She is his intended mate,” Ajaxas said.  “Look at her exquisite limbs, appreciate her delicate physiology.  This girl is a human at her physical peak.  You will find no other like her for light years.”

Seere ran a hand through his mane and stepped closer, his hooves clacking on the cold metallic floor.  He squinted with charcoal eyes, then tilted his head like a bird.

Ajaxas continued: “My asking price is a hundred neurobytes.”

Seere cantered over.  I stared intently at his legs.  His skin shimmered with scales, like a dragon.  As Spike would say, Seere was metal as fuck.

Seere cupped my face gently in his hot hands and lifted my gaze to his.  His eyes narrowed.  I felt like a fish on a hook.

Seere made a guttural sound, then looked to the Brood’s Queen Mother.  Ajaxas flicked her proboscis to my lower back.  Seere followed Ajaxas’ motions, clasping the back of my shirt and lifting it ever so slightly to inspect my biogauge.  He leaned over and let out a soft sound when his eyes met the socket in my back.  He gingerly prodded it with a strangely muscled finger, and I shuddered.  

Seere smiled.  He released my face from his grip and I stood still, pinned like a butterfly by his gaze.  

Seere lifted his hand to his mouth and bit his finger.  Black blood welled up from his wound.  I moved back in disgust, but he stilled me, pressing the bloody finger to my biogauge.  Just as it had absorbed Ajirin’s blood, the socket in my back made a sucking sound, lapping up the blood like a vampire.  

“No!” Ishtar said.  She struggled against the chains, but Ajaxas stung her.  Ishtar fell limp as Ajaxas’s poison spread through her, turning her flesh purple.  Her frills fell limp.

I doubled over as my stomach knotted.  A fire spread through my skin, like a million bee stings.  I puked up the worms I had eaten for breakfast.  

Seere hoisted me up and wiped the vomit from my lip.  After the brutal transfusion, I understood his language, half-purr, half-roar that it was: “You drive a hard bargain, Ajaxas.  I will take the Anunnaki royalty, doubtless, but this human – she seems to have a weak constitution.  What are her talents?  How can I possibly use her?  She will break like a stick at the slightest mishandling.”

Ajaxas blinked her compound eyes hard.  “Without her, the Anunnaki prince will die.”

Seere stomped his hoof on the floor.  “Fair enough.  Perhaps she has abilities that are not yet apparent.  The Anunnaki prince would have been drawn to her for a reason.”  

“Exactly,” Ajaxas said.

Seere placed his hand on my shoulder and ran his oddly formed fingers down my arm.  He closed his three burning eyes and inhaled deeply.  “You have a fighting spirit, don’t you?  I can smell it on your skin – the sweat, the blood.  Ajaxas tells me you killed her best scout.  My question is, how could a creature as fragile as you pose a threat to the Brood?”  

His grip on my arm was like a vise.  I automatically flexed, which prompted him to smile.  “I could snap you in two with the slightest effort.  And yet, you would struggle to the last minute.  I admire that.”

“Let go of me,” I said, shrugging Seere’s hand from my arm.  “You’re right.  I took out Ajirin.  But what do you know about humans?  I could be lethal.  I know tai chi.  Bet you don’t know what that is.”

Seere gave a rough laugh.  “You’re right, I don’t.  You may be lethal, but your skills are untested.  Which is why I’ll only buy her at half-price, Ajaxas.”

Ajaxas clicked her mandible.

 Seere looked at me.  “I hope you are lethal.  You’ll expire quickly if you’re not.”

It was like his eyes were stakes.  I crossed my arms and wished for more substantial clothes than the gossamer skirt and shirt the Anunnaki had given me.

Seere motioned for someone behind him to step forth.  Another centuarine alien, this one a head and shoulders shorter than my newest captor, trotted forward.  She – I assumed by the swell of her breasts – was slenderer than Seere, and seemed to have duller scales than him, the way female cardinals are brown compared to their mate’s red.  

The attendant held a coral metallic disc that seemed to have been etched in curling patterns with a laser.  Ajaxas’s compound eyes widened at the sight of it.  The Queen Mother extended her pincers to hold the pink circle gingerly.  

“The neurobytes have the requested information on Nibiru’s capital?” Ajaxas said.

Seere rumbled with laughter.  “Hell-bent on revenge as always, aren’t you?  Yes, they do.  That information was costly, so keep it well-guarded.”  He appraised me.  “What is your name?”

“You wouldn’t be able to pronounce it.”

Seere stomped a hoof, seemingly entertained.  It was like he liked to watch me squirm.  “I’ll call you Worm.”  He motioned to my barfed-up breakfast of annelids, then smirked with his muzzle.  “It appears Anunnaki food does not agree with you.  I promise you will dine much better on Gehenna.   My servants feast on only the finest minerals, the most purified sunlight.”

Sunshine?  Rocks?  “Sounds appetizing.”  

Seere smiled.  “You will need to keep up your strength, Worm, for I intend to test the mettle of the human who slayed Ajirin.”

“You have made a wise purchase,” said Ajaxas.  “Look at her hair.  It is the color of neurobytes.  She will bring you untold wealth.”

Seere smirked.  “You always knew how to oversell a product.”

Ajaxas looked down at the neurobyte disc in her pincers.  Her compound eyes shone like a green bottle fly’s back.  “We should not linger.  I must take the rest of the Anunnaki to market,” Ajaxas said.

Seere motioned for his silent attendant, who took Ishtar’s limp body down from her shackles.  Ishtar looked desiccated, like a starfish out of water.  Her tentacles were a ghostly lavender, sign of Ajaxas’ spreading poison.  Though the attendant was thin and lacked Seere’s muscle, she carried Ishtar with ease.

Seere smiled, showing fangs that ringed his mouth like a lamprey.  “Be careful, Vassago.  She’s a princess, after all.”  His gentle purr was mocking.  “Come, Worm.  Don’t make me carry you too.”

Jophiel

The girl came to him in a basket in the reeds
immortal made flesh, how Michael wept when
he sent her floating to an unmarked grave, the
woman fell into silence and rebirth, her wings
now tattoos on her back, only halo wheat hair,
her sole providence cornflower eyes, like glass,
they looked up at the king of Hell with tears,
the babe cried out as talons encircled her,
what was once angel, adamant, now blood, bone,
the Devil wept by the River Styx because he
knew that his daughter was caught in coils of
reincarnation, all thanks to his rebellion,
and the legions of women that fell from stars
were now human, but this one in particular was
his own creation with his heavenly twin, and
when she was full-formed, radiant, she gave up
her life to his sword, breast a cardinal red
as a blade not meant for her but heaven’s prince
shot through the night like an arrow, piercing
a golden heart they had created together once
when things were simpler, and their daughter
was new, and bitter wine did not flow between
brothers, so in Hell she was raised, and in Hell
she became strong, angel made child, rocked in
a cradle on Pandemonium’s throne, the wildlands
of the underworld her bosom friend, their king
her moon, and far above, where demons don’t tread,
the prince of heaven heard her voice singing a
lullaby he once lilted to his angel, and he wept
because once someone gives their life for you,
eons separate you, and she died for both of them
the bond between brothers made flesh, made blood,
a pact unto Michael and Samael, only they know
what secret promise, what purpose, she fulfills.

On Possession as Communication With Spirits

I say demonic possession, you probably think of the Exorcist and a girl masturbating with a cross and calling Jesus “daddy.”  I say angelic possession, you probably think of the  human vessels in Supernatural that usually end up with crispy angel wings or, of course, Castiel calling Mark Pellegrino an assbutt.  I say spirit possession and your immediate thought is the horses or chwals of Voodoo, Ifa, and Santeria and maybe that really inaccurate depiction of Papa Legba in American Horror Story: Coven and Marie Laveau writhing with snakes  in fetishized portrayals of valid religions.

Since the beginning of time, shamans and even laypeople in tribal communities have channeled spirits for spiritual communication with the divine.   Mediums do it today with archangels and the deceased, African diasporic religions have a rich history of invoking the lwas and orishas into the flesh, there is the Drawing Down the Moon ritual of Wicca, and of course the famous Lourdes possessions and fascination with demonic possession during the Satanic Panic a few decades ago.  These are all valid examples.  What is rarely talked about, however, is milder states of possession that allow a devotee to share a headspace and body with gods, spirits, angels, demons, the dead, and everything in between.

It is a step above channeling in that you can feel the spirits’ emotions, sometimes hear their thoughts or speech as a kind of inner voice, perceive them in your third eye, feel their touch, rushes of tingling and goosebumps and electric energy, or focus on certain chakras or damaged parts of the body as a means to healing.  There is full-on possession, wherein the devotee becomes a vessel for the spirit in question and most times blacks out and has little memory of what happened, whether as Ogou they drank a bunch of rum and waved machetes around, or accidentally invoked Artemis into the High Priestess instead of some nameless Great Mother Goddess and excuse you, but Artemis wants nothing to do with sex as she is a virgin.  Eyes can change color in the devotee, speech can change, entire mannerisms, even knowing other languages.

I want to talk about shadowing, or soul-sharing, when you are the eyes and ears and tongue and hands – the sensory organ – of your spirits in the physical world.  You share a headspace, can feel the spirit’s emotions, their physical touch, hear their thoughts, and in meditative states or astral travel, see through their eyes and even possess them in turn.  Samael has done that many times with me – letting me see through his eyes – and demons aren’t the only ones who possess people.  As a dumbass teenager I invoked Michael into my body by chanting his name, my eyes rolled back into my head, a hurricane was in my mind, I blacked out, vomited, then drank a glassful of salt water to ground myself.

It’s dangerous shit to mess with especially for budding pagans, but allows gnosis that is unimaginable through regular divination: imagine having a direct connection to the gods, being able to hear their unfiltered thoughts, feel their marvel as they react to the physical world, whether it be a demon tasting chocolate through your tongue or an angel stroking your hair when they are trying to comfort you.  It makes spirits undeniably real.  You are in their head, they are all up in yours, you can touch them when you project out of body, but when they are being channeled, they can touch you, speak to your heart, you can feel prayers as energy, the chakras churning inside you as different energetic centers react, feel their laughter as bubbling champagne in your breast, feel their sorrow as a heavy weight on your shoulders.  Soulsharing is beautiful and painful at the same time.

Personally, I’ve always been like this, before I even understood what spirits were.  Feeling the energy rushing through me, like I’d been plugged into a socket.  I thought they were aliens when I was 7.  I would mix souls with Archangel Ariel in dreams in the third grade and feel divine ecstasy.  I was a really strange kid, and it didn’t help my imaginary friends were Ariel, Uriel, Samael and Metatron.  I’ve always been what the Voodoo community would call a horse, but shy away from full on possession and mostly just use channeling for communication purposes.

I think it’s something you have to be born with – you kind of have to have your head broken open, a shamanic awakening  – and I definitely advise against soulsharing if you’re not supported by a spiritual elder and know exactly what the fuck you’re doing.  There are a lot of different ways to do it – I’ve found imagining sigils in my mind of the respective spirit and just chanting their name does the trick.  Sometimes spirits and gods give you calling cards – two proto-Hebrew taws on your hands for Samael, for example, though I think that’s probably just something that works for me alone, not in general – to invoke them into your body.  Words to focus on, song lyrics, chants, you name it.

Also,  if you are to engage in possession as a means of communication, make sure your shadow work is in check as it can be.  You don’t want to bring negativity into this, especially with spirits of vengeance, because this is opening a very deep line of communication and then they’ll start bothering you about brushing your teeth more (I joke) or confronting your deepest fears to overcome things limiting you, and if it’s a demonic or chaotic spirit, that confrontation will be brutal and humbling (not a joke.)

It is a very effective means of communication, but as with any spiritual endeavor, be cautious, prepare, and plan.  You may find untold levels of kinship, or you may get radio silence, but make sure you have a support system in place.  I didn’t for most of my life and experimented with various levels of possession and energywork without consciously knowing what the hell I was doing and no, elementary school Allies wearing tin foil hats doesn’t make pesky angels go away.

Other than that, it’s quite an interesting mode of spiritual connection.  I think I’ve said enough for now.  Might elaborate on this in further posts.