
03/31/2025
They always ask what the cards say.
But baby, the cards don’t speak—
they summon.
They stir.
They seduce.
The Wheel turned tonight, slow and deliberate,
like a mouth opening over a name it’s not supposed to know.
And I felt it.
In my chest.
In my groin.
In the part of me that’s not tame, not pure,
but holy in ways no temple dares to claim.
I pulled and didn’t ask for permission.
I laid the Knave bare.
I kissed the Empress with my breath,
and let the Emperor rest against my spine like a firm hand.
You think this is fortune?
No, darling.
This is fate undone and redone, again and again, until you can taste your own prophecy on my tongue.
The cards didn’t fall tonight.
They knelt.
And I offered them a benediction:
“Let the cycles break where my spine curves.
Let luck drip like wax down my thighs.
Let no one leave this reading unmarked.”
You weren’t just meant to be told your future.
You were meant to be claimed by it.