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surrender to fantasy
a dark night, a darker soul
touched by the divine
deep within

taken alive, taken
where I dare not go by day
touched by the spirit
on its whim

transported above myself
my sleep disturbed
touched by the eternal
warm embrace

mystical magic
my essence unbutton
touched by holiness
blissful night

host angelic
be my desire
touched by heaven
grace assured

rapture supreme, rapture
anoint me in your love
touch sanctified
sacred be

celestial dream
give me light, delight
touch immortal
enlighten me

Planet Ezzie (34. The Clock Ticked)


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I can feel pain.

Tommy can feel how my hands shake as I control his. He can’t feel the dampness on my cheeks where the tears have flowed for hours (of his time) on end.

I shouldn’t be here, not this late at night. His parents might hear him tippy-tapping under the covers in his bedroom. I had to bring you up-to-date on the last 24 hours while it is still fresh.

Beatrice returns to rehearsals on Tuesday, and I can’t let that happen. She has infected most of my street. There are cars parked on the road for the entire block at all times of day. People venture outside naked, though not too far from my house. The police were called, and those that attended haven’t left. They have been snared by her thrall. Tommy and Thaddeus have done their best to protect his family who live on the next street over, a cul-de-sac which has little through traffic, and isn’t directly accessible from my street.

That won’t last long. At some point, his parents will notice people skinny-dipping in my pool. They will also wonder where I am. I will have missed Tommy’s horn lesson three weeks in a row.

Unfortunately, this missive isn’t about that problem – directly, at least. I have made a decision, and that affects my other world – or it may.

My body has to die.

It neuters Beatrice for a while, possibly generations, until she can find a host – or me – again. Unfortunately, that death brings oblivion. My orb is in a fragile state. I need to start evolution in motion. I can’t wait for the fail-safe to kick in again. That may not even be the same orb. I will forget it, and it will evolve out of control. I have no idea how many such orbs exist in my subconscious.

Damn. I like that body, although I can’t remember any others. I still think I like it the most. It is, perhaps, the most like the real me, now that the hair and eyes have been corrected. Would I go back if I had the chance? I don’t know.

I will be reborn, and it may be years before I remember my true self – if I ever do. It took this body over 50 years.

How can I kill my body? I could coerce someone to kill it, but that jeopardizes the killer. That breaks my rule of non-interference. Is it a rule? Instinct tells me it is.

I must find a way to destroy the body that Beatrice inhabits in the next 48 hours without harming anyone else. (Coincidentally, it will be a new moon.)

But that isn’t why I have been crying.

I imagined the dream, the dream where I took part of my spirit and created a new species in my orb. If The Bible is relatively true, God created Adam and Eve at a terrible cost to him/herself.

Why do I refer to him/her in the third person? He/she/we are first person. Probably.

It was a momentous thing I did today. It took only a few seconds of Earth time, but millennia of Orb time.

I split my soul today. It was like smashing a diamond to dust. Each of those grains/molecules of diamond dust is a new soul. They will develop into new species that will inhabit not only Orbville, but that entire universe with billions of inhabitable worlds. I can’t explain fully how I did it. I imagined it, and it happened.

I took a swim in my moon womb, then breathed in deeply and imagined myself shattering and populating the universe with souls. That was it. There are a finite number, but that is staggeringly huge. Not all people will have a soul, and some souls can reproduce. Only a handful will be needed to populate Orbville.

It hurt.

Beyond what you could ever imagine. If a nurse asked me to describe it on a scale of 1 to 10, I would say at least a million. It wasn’t just physical pain. It was mental pain as well as spiritual pain. I cried for millennia.

What’s worse is that I will recover and forget it, then do it again someday. I’ve set the ball rolling in Orbville, at least, and I am weakened such that further creation is limited for now. I will walk that planet as one of that species someday, and forget all that has gone before. I’ve left part of me there.

Of course, it is all within me, too. It’s a paradox. It is all me.

In this weakened state, I must deal with Beatrice without popping Earth’s Orb. Instinct tells me I must reveal my true nature to Diane first. (If only to task her with protecting Thaddeus and Tommy. How can she do that? I don’t know, but she must.)

I will come back once more before I do the deed, and if you don’t hear from me again. Gaia Esmeralda Dryar is dead and reborn as someone else.



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Hold it!

I can’t.

No! Hold it!
They are coming for you.

I can’t.

You must.

Who is coming for me?
Maybe I should let them.
Nobody has come for me in a long time.

Not that kind. The drone. See it?

No. A worker bee?
I’d settle for anyone
who might come for me.

Not that kind!
You are in danger.

I’m ready.

You are on the precipice.
It’s a long fall,
and your rope won’t reach the bottom.

I don’t plan on making it there.

Then where?

A special place,
a place where only I belong,
and those I love.

How do you keep others out?

It is a place that no one else can find.
You can, but don’t look for it.
The door is open for you.
You will come for me.


After the drone has gone.

After the love has gone?
Isn’t that the right title?

After the drone has gone.
It’s a different song,
one that will lead you to that place.
I’ll give you some slack,
then you should follow.

But the danger!

Not in my place.
There is no danger there.
You must take the step as I do.
Let go, and I will catch you.

I’m afraid.

Have confidence, trust me.
Follow my lead.
I’m going now.
Come for me.

Wait! When?

I’ll be ready.
Beware the drone.
I will wait for you.

How long?



Mine removed


I knew he would come,
our place since the beginning of time,
our time.

This is our watery garden,
our Eden without that damned tree,
pure and untouched.

He knows not why he is drawn,
pure as the driven snow,
in his dream.

When he last visited,
it was my dream,
his beautiful flesh,
my paradigm.

My spirit sat on this log,
here since ancient times,
but he couldn’t see me then,
not like now.

He can’t help noticing a woman,
the most beautiful he has ever seen,
as we were created for each other.

Forever I wait for him in the mountain tarn,
fed by a waterfall, borne of a force,
an underground river
bursting from a cliff face.

This lake is our love,
still and pure,
with its source from a higher power.

I will always love him because
I remember.

He forgets until he sees me,
wonders at his newfound love,
One that he understands not.

Natural, yet he is Earthbound.
I will teach him again,
but when he awakens,
he will marvel at his dream.

He’s had one like it before,
I know because I know his thoughts.
They are mine, removed.