May Aphrodite bless you with her kindness.
May the air around you grow thick with her tenderness, slowing everything down. May you feel her breath as your own, allowing her to breathe in you. She is love. Love. Love. But she has been misrepresented.
What do you know about love? Has love reached out to you in every moment? Have you let your feet melt into warm sand? Has loved touched you in the way you sew and mend together? Cut with a knife? Are you with me? She is love in the way you inhale passion. She is in the softness of a rose.
She is in the lingering scent of Queen of the Night. In the quiet, stillness of darkness. When everyone else has surrendered to bed. And let themselves go into dream. But you have stayed up late to feel the peacefulness of a place not at war. The harmony of a world at ease. She is relaxation into deep peace, a deep warm pool of it. When does she end and you begin? She is temptation. She is wise about it. If only people understood her. There would be less pain.
How can I let you know that she is important. That every word could be spoken in her name? What are you aiming for? What is propelling you? What do you desire? Speak it wordless to me, as you always do when we meet. It’s ok to feel. It’s ok to need. It’s ok to not be ok. She will understand your reason.
I feel her. She comes to visit. I ask for her often. And when she comes the room goes silent, and the room grows warm. The light grows steadily, to a bright golden light. And I wait patiently. Sometimes I have felt her caress me tenderly, with such softness and care. This goddess of caring. A goddess of goodness. A goddess of warmth, and such tenderness. The lightest of touch.
She is delighted to see me. Curious. There is a mirth to her. Merriment. She is in love. Bathed in love. My greatest wish is to honour her. She asks “what are you missing right now?” She wants to know you. She delights in measures towards happiness. Sometimes we don’t even know it, but we are running away from her. And when we succeed, it feels so cold. We forget how good life can be. When the world isn’t allowed to mess things up. Because normally nothing in this world is allowed to speak of her. The real her. Not the sex doll. Because if we knew her, life would be different. It would be less rushed, because we would want to live every moment, and never forget it ends.
You can’t really understand what you don’t respect. And she has dignity. But you try and grab at it. But it won’t work like that. Because you need to mirror what you want to attract. A true reflection. And this true reflection wants you warts and all. As those weaknesses are meant for her to carry. No one said you had to do this alone. We have goddesses. Who shape air. Just like you do. Into compassion. There.