Larvae

Psychedelics provide an opportunity for play, exploration, and new neural pathways around eroticism. Sometimes they revive dormant neural networks around the healthy, innocent eroticism of childhood. Psychedelics can also reactivate dormant neural pathways around the eroticism of our animal nature and cellular memory. These corrective experiences provide possibilities for people with sexual trauma who might find inter-personal sexual experiences re-traumatizing in the early stages of healing. Enjoy this piece about my own erotic psychedelic experience:

Saliva drains from my open mouth, spilling into liquid cup
Humidity, condensation,
A water cycle in the vacuum I have sealed between my mouth,
and the mouth of my mug
Sucking sounds
Vapors of redwood needles
Steep into my sinuses
Sending thoughts scattering like 
flocks of birds from the ocean shore.
Inhaling to the far reaches of my body,
And exhaling from there
Belly flesh with Earth’s belly.
Haaaaaaa, deep sound into acoustic oven
I feel the wall of my breath bounce back to greet me 
Feeling myself,
Feeling my sound
Echo chambers exchanging.

Saliva spills the story of all the ones I dripped with energetically 
Like dew gathering critical mass in pregnant underbellies 
Dangling there
Flirting with rupture
Breaking the seal
Spilling into twilight.

Face in my mug
Silken curls fall, iridescent.
Gradient shafts of sunlight filter through emerald pine bows, 
and blonde curtain, 
enveloped in the cocoon of my lovemaking. 

Wood Thrushes resound through the forest
Fracturing me into a spectrum of light. 
Pure note calls through my open body
every pore, every follicle, an orifice.
In arid exchange with the
vast atmospheric body of the forest. 

Tongue slips in the thin casing
Between my teeth and inner lips
A slug in its mucosal lining
A larvae in tender skin
A cock through its foreskin,
Moving through the intimacy of that private space,
Shared between two, the only two that know.
Who dare to open to the power between them. 

I open to a primordial knowing 
Cellular memory cracks open, breaching thin walls.
My body moves, 
Undulating and instinctual
In rhythmical abandon.

I surrender to a sight beyond mine eyes
through my belly that leads and guides,
through my body that knows a dance the mind can’t grasp...
Dancing a preeminent blueprint,
Like feet landing the stars, 
connecting constellations in the sky.

What is this wisdom that emerges out of me?
…Undulating, as I’ve always known how to do,
organismic memory
Never forgotten.
Primitive rocking on my pelvic bone
Like when I was little, 
masturbating at nap time,
Sexual somehow, and sooooo much more than that. 

In this utterly unselfconscious presence,
I know all... 
I know how to dance, how to love… how to touch
How to grab, firm and purposefully,
How to handle 
How to breathe
How to open, and receive…

Awaken ancient memory…
From a preverbal time
When the world was herds of buffalo and storm heads,
heat lightning and sonic booms…
Bodies of rolling hills and humpback whales...
Ensouled bodies following genetic code.

Archetypes awaken within me
Sounding their namesake.
Sounds I can’t otherwise make.
Cavities and grottos open within me,
Emancipating wild sound
Rough and prehistoric,
Animal and archaic,
Forces of mythical power enter me from behind.

Ascend the sacred tower, 
Crystalline castles made of imagination
Inspiration like drip castles that climb the sky.
Flow.
No fear, just flow.
Build, Erection…
Circulation and expansion. 
Ecstatic movement
Building upon one another

We make eye contact
And in that moment,
A pact.
Witness this power flowing through me…
We are in this together
Not only that,
But to behold you, in such… 
And to be beheld in such power,
Heals everything in me. 

Never have I sustained myself in the presence of such power.
Inspiration expands with no brakes 
Till we emerge into another dimension, where inhibition does not exist, 
and it is only virility, unobstructed. 

And then we reach critical mass.
A balloon that has expanded to max tension… 
And breaks…

Urgent psychic energy breaches embryotic sac 
Draining amniotic fluid
Spillage of afterbirth on the carpet.
Carry me down the landslide of the milky way
Deliver me, to where all souls are carried.
I am milk.
I am the breast milk of the cosmic mother, 
That goes back into life, once again. 

I am back in my cup,
Spilling saliva.
It was just a fantasy
Or a memory, of something I know in my bones….