exile // creatrix

lilith. medusa. kali. inanna. tiamat.

1 Creation was not a line, but a swell. The waters already restless. We did not begin it – we leaned into its wanting. 2 The first strands were tensions. Untethered fibers. And we tied what was drifting into webs. 3 There is no genesis without descent. We dared to want something. To hunger. Hunger is the doorway; severance, the threshold. We opened the dark. Not to conquer — but to breathe. And in opening it, we opened ourselves. 4 What was cut was swallowed. Everything entered a mouth. Creation is digestion. 5 Day required night to be seen. Shadow taught depth to brightness. The children pressed against us; light and dark, sky and soil. And we had to be parted, gently, painfully. But we held each other in the separation and made edges porous. Shoreline. Dusk. Dawn. Skin. Every boundary is a meeting place. 6 And we bled into the land songs, screams, laughter. Between each act, we tend the silence. The listening. The first patterns were not edicts – they were rhythms. 7 When one of us pulled too hard, another slackened the thread. When one of us flooded too wide, another shaped the banks. When one of us burned too clean, another fed the ash to roots. When one of us reached too high, another grounded the climb. When one of us clenched in grief, another danced until our body remembered motion. We are not singular, we are recurrence.