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ArtistEntheogenic Parthenogenetic Pregnancy: an uncanny hallucination of impossible self-generation. The disturbing certainty that something mythic is awakening beneath the skin—not pain, but an inexorable inner emergence. Dreamlike, symbolic, surreal, existential dread, no gore, no sexuality.
The moon has planted no child but an impossible constellation beneath my ribs. I walk garlanded with invisible pollen, while the blue fungi of heaven whisper that every cell remembers a forgotten annunciation. No lover crossed my threshold; only the ecstatic vine of vision entered, barefoot, carrying galaxies like lilies. Beneath my skin an unborn metaphor unfurls its luminous roots, neither flesh nor spirit, but a singing chrysalis of impossible origins. I tremble before this immaculate delirium, fearing the blossom that ripens without seed. Yet the stars kiss my veins with golden mouths, and every heartbeat becomes a chapel where the unknown gathers itself into radiant silence, forever arriving, forever unborn.
