Continuing with Cultist of Ecstasy work . . .

This is exceedingly free-associational and I'm not including half the context.

( Iron Pentacle: Contains Sex, Rock and Roll, no Drugs )

Meanwhile, in random accidental divination moments, I was cleaning up and picked up my book of Rumi poetry and opened it to a page that said:

In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.

You dance inside my chest,
where no one sees you,

but sometimes I do,
and that sight becomes this art.

Hello, Black Heart.