This is no ordinary love.

I've been cleansing on hot tea and green powder for three days. I am light headed in a good way. I am light. I am Light.

I am Dark.

On the full moon, in my third day of light headed cleanse, all I do is make love. I am on Grand Bahama island for one month now and there is a water slide. I die by water (my dreams tell me so) and playing in it is not a daily intrigue. But the slide....on the full moon....three stories tall, capsuled inside a stone tower, looking like a Greek Alien Fortress housing Rapunsell with dread locks. Let down your hair and tonite, when the slide's water is turned off and the entrance is gated, you will hop that fence, climb three stories of stair and look out over the top of your tower. At a shore of white sands. At an ocean with no other side. At a sky black as young widow's heart, but illuminated, nonetheless, by the light of a striking moon.

And He will be there. The One. The only one who could be there. He is like a snake slithering subtly behind you, searching touching feeling everything as he goes. When he arrives, feeling you, like a snake; with all the skin surface area he owns. He will hold his breath and watch like you are an asteroid or some other celestial event that might not be witnessed again for another thousand years.

He takes you in now. And still lives a thousand more.

Two weeks ago I was here at the top. I was peering into the dark hole, the slide's dry after-hour entrance, and I could hear voices, wailing and echoing, and I could feel the cold breath of the Unknown rushing at my face. I was not welcome. I did not enter.

However tonite's full moon gives me permission, rather: implores me to enter. To step inside and crawl in deep. To hear what makes sound and feel what is present and face what is Unknown. Deeply crawling down, narrowing in, descending further as the Light from the top, behind me, becomes distant. And the Dark, in front of me; consuming.

And He will be there. Covered in blood on white hotel sheets. Or tracing my body against construction paper with the marker in his mouth. Or beholding me yet, like a celestial event, even as I franticly sob to be anyone but me. Wherever He is, He will be there. I can go alone, and he will be there.

This is no ordinary love.

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