#queer spirituality | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rockofeye · 6 months

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Hi! I want to open with a heartfelt thanks for running this blog seeing other trans & queer folk means a lot. I'm Haitian American, & for many reasons I've grown up isolated from that part of my heritage. For the past couple years I've been doing on-and-off research into Vodou & something always pulls me back. I want to reach out to a sosyete & ask to learn in ways besides reading; but I'm lost as to how. Do you have any advice for someone in my position? Thank you for your time :)

Hi,

I'm so glad this has been useful for you; that has kind of been the whole point for me. For me as a queer and gender non-conforming houngan, leaving a door visible for other folks like me is important, especially now.

Your experience is not unique; I regularly speak to Haitian folks who, for whatever reason, did not have the benefit of being connected to these particular roots. I hear more and more from queer and trans Haitians as well, who have felt their roots are unavailable to them because of their queerness or transness, and that's simply not true at all. There is a rich and vibrant history and present of very visible queer and gender non-conforming vodouizan. It is complicated in Haiti for any number of reasons, but it is always there and the temples have always been the places where queer and trans folks have been safe in Haiti.

Starting with a reading is honestly a good place to start; it can give you a very basic feel for what the sosyete may be like, regardless of whether you are sitting with the lineage head or one of their children, and a reading can tell you a lot about the reader and not just about yourself and your spirits and situation.

Many sosyetes have public ceremonies, and going to ceremonies can be a good way to get a feel for a house and it's people. Going a bit early and seeing if there are things you can help with is good, too... though maybe not on your first visit!

It can def be intimidating as a queer and/or trans person going into a new spiritual space, and I imagine it can be challenging and complicated as a Haitian person entering a new-to-you Haitian space.

I'd be happy to chat with you privately, if you'd like; for me, I have a big, big place in my heart for other queer and/or trans folks finding their spiritual way. If you're interested in a reading, I'm happy to hook you up, extend my created-just-this-minute discount for queer and trans folks on readings, and give you some options. Feel free to reach out by message here, either through the ask box (just give me a way to reach you) or the messenger, or at [email protected].

All my best wishes for you; your birthright is waiting for you.

#vodou #haitian vodou #queer spirituality #trans spirituality

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bedroomantic · 7 days

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Kairos - a Greek word for time. Distinct from Chronos (chronological time). Kairos is a different kind of time. It is described as an opportune moment, a moment that interrupts the linear.

A moment that, given the right conditions, is actionable.

Time we create.

My first ever zine, “Wandering in Kairos”, is an intimate collection of plein air paintings, inner dialogues, and photographs from a solo journey abroad (namely in Switzerland and Italy, places of ancestry and mythos for me). With many different bursts of thoughts, feelings, and experiences, the zine mirrors the collage-like nature of being alive while also engaging a discussion on discovery, and “kairos” time.

What emerges out of states of lostness?

Check out more about my zine and travels on my insta @samoa_snail.

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amorphousgenderlesscryptid · 6 months

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Please don’t feel pressured to answer, but when did you realize you were trans? And being Catholic, was that difficult?

wobbles in under the weight of a massive leatherbound tome Well, it's a bit of a long story.

I knew I was queer before I knew I was trans. I fell in love with a girl when I was 13, and by age 15 I was completely out in all aspects of my life. Like a lot of gays my age, when I was trying to figure out my sexuality the first place I went was the internet. That was where I discovered the concept of butch lesbians - and I thought they were so cool. Something about their blurring of masculinity and femininity spoke to me (even though I definitely would not have put it that eloquently at the time). So after I came out I decided to cut off my long hair and start wearing boys clothes. I still remember the first time I looked at myself in the mirror like that and the feeling that I was really seeing me for the first time.

I was a hard butch for most of high school after that. At some point I started to become uncomfortable with my curvy body and high pitched voice. It made me happy to be mistaken for a boy. I started to entertain the idea that maybe I wasn't cis. I decided to buy myself some men's underwear online, a baby step into further gender experimentation. The day they arrived at the house, I had come down with laryngitis. My mother found and opened the package. She was upset, and I couldn't speak to explain myself. We didn't talk about it even after the laryngitis got better, and the incident scared me back into the gender closet for several more years.

Most of the time thoughts about my gender or my body didn't bother me too much. But sometimes I would have bad days where I felt the desperate need to cover up in the loosest, boxiest clothing I owned. I refused to look too hard at why my curves bothered me. And then COVID happened - I was in grad school, and quarantining in the apartment where I lived alone. With nothing but my thoughts to keep me company, my gender confusion got louder and louder until I couldn't ignore it anymore. I told my best friend that I wanted to try being called Teddy. The name stuck. It felt right. I cycled through a few different sets of pronouns before ultimately settling on they/them. I bought a binder. Slowly, I came out as nonbinary in different areas of my life, and by age 23 I was completely out. I'm starting hormones soon and planning to get top surgery in the future.

That's my trans story. Was it hard because I'm Catholic? The short answer is no. I went through that once already as a hormonal middle schooler realizing I wanted to kiss girls and believing for a long time that meant I was going to hell. My relationship with religion is also long and complicated, and probably best saved for another post if anyone wants to hear it. But by the time I was in my twenties and coming to terms with my gender, I was back on good terms with God. There's a Bible passage I rediscovered at that time that has remained one of my favorites: "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus." I've always existed in liminal spaces - not Black or white, not gay or straight, not man or woman. And that's what God is. God is the liminal spaces - He is everything and all of us at once. I am made in His image and I am holy and beautiful and perfect as I am.

#roman catholic #catholic #trans catholic #queer catholic #nonbinary catholic #lgbtq+#trans #transgender #nonbinary #coming out stories #queer spirituality

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queeritual · 2 days

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Queeritual: A spiritual blog for queer people

Hello! Welcome to this blog’s first post and thank you for giving it a read in advance.

Are you tired of taking in spiritual content and having it be heavily gendered? I know I sure am. On a serious note let’s dive into . . .

Why did you make this blog?

Perfect question! I made this blog because I was personally a bit annoyed by every time I entered a decently popular spiritual space I would get called a woman, with the scattered “... and men too!”. I assumed there had to be other people out there that have the same uncomfortability as me when it comes to gendered terms that are also on a spiritual journey and wanted to make a space for them and I figured a blog here on Tumblr could be a good first step!

Okay… Who are you?

Another perfect question, and honestly I’m just some spiritual queer person who wanted a space for spiritual advice and conversations to be less gendered. You can call me Hazel, I use they/them pronouns, and I’m a very young twenty one years old. I don’t have any crazy degrees to throw around, I am just a person who is spiritual and practices as often as I am able to between working and life in general.

What are you going to share?

Anything and everything! From music playlists I make when I meditate, to what I use within in a spiritual sense to gain my bearings in the world. I want to create a very raw and real space here with you all, so some posts may be hard to read. I will always suggest getting some tea, reading any content warnings and seeing if you have the mental energy to read it. If not, who cares? Maybe you’ll be ready later, maybe you won’t be, not every post has to be read.

I should probably close this off before I get too far lost in my rambles. Any questions can be sent to my inbox and I will answer when I have the time. I hope you all have a wonderful day today.

Be well, be free.

#queeritual - personal #spiritual #spirituality #spiritual awakening #spiritual journey #spiritual queer #queer #queer space #queer spirituality

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etxfolkmystic · 8 months

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If anyone decides to ask me why I am a witch, I will tell them it's because of the woods. For surely there is magic and spirits that lurk amongst these trees.

If anyone asks me where I found god on Sunday during the last haunting season through the early dog days of summer, I'll tell them the woods. For surely the lobolly pine, haloed by the sun in the noonday sky, surely he was the sun god himself.

If someone chooses to ask me why I chose to identify myself as queer, I will show them these woods. For surely, these plants that twist and turn or stand tall in the midnight sky are less binary, these creatures that weave webs strong as metal but contort around my finger without hesitation if I choose to play home wrecker that day, surely there is less binary and more spectrum under these branches.

If someone asks me where I go to find who I am amongst all the other people, I will tell them the woods. For surely if all these atoms and molecules can exist in one place and time to eventually find themselves in my place and time, maybe just maybe I can learn what it means to meet others where they are.

I'm so glad I decided to look at old photos of my walks I used to take through the woods on Sunday. That routine really grounded me, and helped me to become more rooted after moving to East Texas. I don't think I'll pick up going every Sunday again, but I do think I'll start incorporating the woods back into my months, I miss seeing all the changes happen but doing it every Sunday did eventually take its toll and make it too routine. Those woods probably saved me, I don't know how but they did.

#folk witch #spider #moth #exoskeleton #bugs #catepillar #mushroom #moss #spider webs #witch community #witchythings #queer spirituality #nature photography #macro photography #macro nature #amateur photography #amateur nature photography

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fresh-avoguecado · 10 months

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Growing up as a trans guy afraid of Hell

I have this little creature that lives in my chest, right below my collarbone.

She's always peeking through my eyes, always smiling.

Her name is a tree. Aspen. My inner child or something like that.

She has this thick mane that she wears in pigtails- so often that her hair has semi-permanent dents where the ties grip.

She doesn't like wearing it down.

She's a little girl who only understands "she" and "girl" to be a conglomeration of sounds used to address her. She makes people laugh and she laughs a lot herself.

She's curious about the world, the first baby of a family whose children have just turned into adults. She's loved really really well at this age.

She'll switch to perma-ponytails next. She doesn’t like having hair in her face.

She sees a brown pageboy cap in a store and tries sticking the ponytail up in it. She likes how it looks. Like Newsies.

Aspen cuts the hair short for the first time. Like, committed to the shortness for a hot second short.

Aspen stops using pronouns for Aspen when thinking. Do other girls feel like this? Boys too? They must right? I don't think it's supposed to hurt.

I'll just keep quiet. I can fix this.

Something in the kid is having trouble seeing the positives of growing up. But puberty is a lifetime away. Aspen has been a kid for forever so far, so that worry-

-that weird thing called "womanhood"

wasn't anything to worry about anytime soon.

Not to worry. Not to worry. Aspen doesn't need to feel worry.

Aspen is a very mature kid. All the teachers say so. Aspen is a paradox.

The polite class clown. The charming and desirable tomboy. Everyone likes Aspen. And Aspen likes God so much and so Bravely n' Publicly that everyone in Churchome likes Aspen too.

The wonderkid is thoughtful, wonderfully spontaneous and compassionate. Pretty. Wonderkid is too talented and too well-loved by the family to not have all artistic dreams supported.

Aspen takes a Logic class.

IF (grateful to have opportunities) AND (want the family to love you/go to heaven)

THEN (- cannot betray the familygod by becoming like that. Like becoming one of those people who are either the butt of a joke or a sexual adventure onscreen.)

Not when they have invested so much.

I was supposed to be better than that.

I-

It would be sinful.

Aspen really wanted to go to heaven.

In heaven- it would all make sense, in heaven, the kid wouldn't feel this way about his body. He wouldn't- she-

I didn't want to be a she. I didn't want to be a she. It was wrong.

What was wrong with me?

I read on a Christian blog that sometimes the mind needs visual symbolism to help get a point across.

“Try writing whatever negative thoughts you have about yourself on a piece of paper. Burn it, and watch as His light covers over the page and destroys your sin. Give your burden to the Lord.”

I write the word FREAK over and over again on a piece of paper and then I burn it on our porch.

I can fix this.

I. Can. Fix. This.

I'm so desperate for anything at this point, anything to make the sin of my disgusting ungratefulness go away. I don't understand why God made me a girl. I don’t understand.

Why would He do this to me? I pray for God to show me a reason. God just says "Hold on." Over and over, every time I pray that's all I hear, "Hold on."

I suck up my tears. I genuinely don't know how I will stay alive. I don’t know how many years I’m going to need to “hold on” for until reality itself somehow shifts.

Until the mountains move.

I am happiest when I am asleep.

But I don't want my parents to know that- I don't want to seem ungrateful or like I'm mentally ill when they have only ever treated me like the perfect faultless angels that they are.

I am a bad daughter.

I hate being a daughter.

I hate being in this body.

I can't fucking escape it.

I can't runaway from my own skin.

I tried I tried I tried-

I’m fifteen, running barefoot on concrete until I leave bloody tracks.

I read and I read and I read.

I relate to Frankenstein's monster.

I want to stop existing like this more than anything.

"Hold on."

I'm angry at God for sticking me in this gender- from making me live in a world where being trans is a sin. For making it so that obeying Him means living a Freaky Friday nightmare every day of my life for years and years and years until I die.

I’m so scared of being buried in a dress.

There's this one acting teacher in Aspen's school who doesn't look at Aspen in the same slightly-too-smiley way most men do.

This guy calls Aspen "kid" exclusively and nonchalantly gives the kid one of his old pirate costumes after a Peter Pan performance. The boy one.

The one I had been staring at.

The guy teaches me stage combat and makes me captain.

I later learn that he has a husband. I feel seen by him in a way I haven't felt before.

But it's a sin.

But…

I can't imagine him not going to heaven.

Not when his eyes look at me and say “hold on.”

Sometimes the things we talk about in Bible study make me feel…

I shouldn't feel that way.

"Trust in God" is the blanket answer Churchhome gives me when I ask them questions.

"Hold on," says God. The two words are enough to make me keep trying to fix/not hate myself. To survive for that person I'm going to save. To survive for the next version of me. For my phoenix.

"Hold on." The encouragement is somehow enough but just barely.

I hang on to a thread for the next six years.

The kid watches the people with the kind of body Aspen would grow into go about their lives.

The kid watches as all kinds of adults trade their name cards in for adjectives. People keep misspelling “Aspen” as “Pretty”.

Pretty loves to dance. Pretty loves to play piano. Aspen loves being able to express emotions without talking. Aspen didn't like the way Pretty's voice sounds.

There is a noticeable difference between Aspen's voice and the voice of real boys now. The kid tries not to think about it.

There are helpful YouTube videos explaining why God doesn't make mistakes. Why obedience is so rewarding, even it if doesn't feel like that in the moment- even if you can't comprehend ever being a woman and being truly happy.

Trust me

Some people act wary around the kid now. The word gay is tossed around briefly. Briefly-

But the kid quickly works to quell those rumors.

I pray to God every day, trusting God to fix me, begging him to change me. To make me a boy- to pluck me out of this reality and let me be born again. Let me start over the right way for I am defective and want a recall.

Aspen needs a change in the brain.

I can only ever be happy as a girl if I have a lobotomy.

Aspen prays for a lobotomy.

Aspen prays for breast cancer.

Take away that part of myself that isn’t allowed to live.

Dementor-kiss me and let me be pretty without caring.

Amen Amen A man a man

The kid is lying sideways in bed. Wearing a black push-up bra. Trying to make it feel not alien.

The kid doesn't understand why the body is sobbing uncontrollably.

What's wrong with me?

Why do I feel like this?

What's wrong with me?

The kid tries standing a little wider, tries hunching the shoulders in, and wearing two sports bras two sizes too tight. The frayed straps often leave red rashes. Worth it.

Wonderkid tries it, and starts feeling better.

He cuts up bedsheets in his room and ties it around his chest so tight that his lungs sound raspy for hours afterward.

But in the mirror, with that snake-sheet constricting his chest, the kid looks so happy in his pirate costume.

He feels slightly more alive when he tries on a binder for the first time.

He feels so much better that it's scary.

Because that isn't an option.

That isn't an option.

Not for Wonderkid.

Wonderkid moves to New York.

Public school is different than The C.C (Conservative Christian) Homeschool Co-op he was born into.

Aspen tries being Wondergirl for a while, wants to be with be a guy.

Lonely.

Body hurts.

Brain hurts.

Don't really feel anything.

But that's okay, all I need is God. The Lord is my strength and my shield.

If I'm feeling pain then I must be doing something wrong, I must deserve the consequences. I am sinning by wanting to be a boy and being ungrateful for my gender. I am sixteen years old.

Some part of me trusts that I need to hold on a little longer.

I am always a boy when I dream. I am happiest when I am asleep. I think I have a purpose. I think I need to stay alive a little longer for him. I like the name Thomas.

I'm seventeen. Somewhere in my mind, I say "I can't be a girl forever. This hurts too much."

Another voice says

"You can't die yet."

Life is supposed to be good, you're just not seeing it right… you need to trust in the Lord. You have control over your life right? Everything you do has consequences.

Everything is your fault.

Dear God- help me lose weight, become more boxy, dear God help me to find a guy that I will actually desire to be with, make my chest smaller, make me stop, dear God Dear God Oh my God-

I cry and cry and cry until I never cry.

I'm still Wonderkid at school. Talented- I've evolved from Pretty to Beautiful now.I'm told to be thankful for my body by my Mother whenever I mention anything. I know I should be thankful. But I'm so ungrateful to God.

I know I’m swine compared to him. To His majesty and grace.

Who am I to question Him and His perfect plan? "For I know the plans I have for you-" I choke out on my bathroom floor, "Plans not to harm you, but to give you a hope and a future." I peel my shaking hands away from my face.

I was never good at memorizing Bible verses, but I always remembered the gist of them pretty well. We were graded on them at Churchome.

I discover that alcohol makes me not care about my body anymore. I drink and I stop caring about the way I have to be when I'm around people. I drink and I stop caring about the future or being trapped in this body or what happens next. I don’t even get hungover.

It's such a relief. A godsend. For a few hours every weekend, I genuinely don't care about being a girl. I can just dance and there are lights and music and everyone’s happy and young-

I really love dancing.

Soy milk increases estrogen so I start avoiding that like the plague- not because I'm… you know, like that or anything. I just don't like the way the female chest looks aesthetically/feels/is/exists/sits/lays/

I can't escape my body I can't escape my body scratches on my skin blame it on eczema-

A quiet stage.

Spotlight.

I’m eighteen. Red curtains lift around me and several cellos start singing.

I am stunning, I am so goddamn beautiful and I and everyone else in the auditorium knows it.

My technique is clean because I give 120% in every class. At my ballet academy, I'm most teachers' favorite. I love that we aren't allowed to talk in class. I love the way ballet makes my body hurt.

I'm flexible but not as strong as the other dancers- a little heavier too* (*see Not Anorexic) and I haven't had as many years of training under my belt.

But God can I act- I dance with emotion, I dance and the world is superimposed with places I've only been to in movies.

I'm told that I dance like I've been alive for a really long time. Too long.

I’ve been alive too long like this.

I'm doing semi-clean pirouettes onstage- but in reality, I'm a smoke signal on top of The Great Wall of China- alerting of Hun attacks by burning tall and bright. My superimposed movie. I dance in the dark night wind and horse hooves of the calvary clop on top of smooth stone.

I do a grand jeté and the smoke signal sparks out orange fireflies.

I know the audience is seeing Pretty and the way her blood-red “Arabian” costume sparkles in the light- but they don't know just how beautiful my imagination is making the scenery right now.

It's okay. I know.

I get offstage and sweat is in my eyes, I'm panting, and for some reason the physical exhaustion from the sport makes me feel like a boy. Life is good and there is air in my lungs for once and the first thing that my extended family says when I greet them at the stage door is,

"You're growing into such a beautiful young woman."

I am so scared of being buried in someone else’s grave.

I tell them “thank you” and I hold on.

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czortofbaldmountain · 8 months

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Menstrual Prayer to the Nonbinary Moon

Against Dysphoria

I call you, triple-faced goddess Mene, O light-beloved Hermes and Hekate at once, Male-female child together.1

Moon beyond all binary Silver and gold Black and white And red like the blood I bleed now.

Let me, Mirror of Heavens, Look into your shining face. So, gazing upon my reflection, I may remember - Though others may try to define me, I am nothing else But myself.

1 - Greek Magical PaIyri IV.2441-2621. Note - “Mene” is an Ancient Greek word for the Moon and was used interchangeably with “Selene”, here denoting the same goddess.

Dividers cut from a photo by Adrian Swancar on Unsplash.

This prayer was written by a nonbinary person who menstruates to help alleviate dysphoria by connecting with the Moon in a nonbinary form. Neither involving menstruation in witchcraft nor menstruating at all is not neccessary to be a witch or to work with the Moon. I am transgender and this post is not for terfs and other bioessentialists.

#czortposting #czort's prayers #queer spirituality #menstruation #hekate prayers #hermes prayers #hermekate prayers #selene prayers #hekate deity #hermes deity #selene deity #hekatean #hekatean witchcraft #hekate devotee #selene devotee #witchcraft #paganism #hermekate #deity work

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omnist-angels · 6 months

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For those who don't know, one way my gender fluidity manifests, is through name fluidity. Depending on how long you've been following me, you've probably seen me change my name at least once. Etymology is so interesting to me, I'm just too indecisive with too many choices to make a permanent one.

The reason i bring this up on this blog, is because I've been eyeing other names lately, and considering the concept of an omnist name. Similar to the idea of a witch name or changing a name with conversion, except I've converted to everything and nothing (a topic for a future musings post).

Let's call it an "altar" name for now, a name I keep at the altar and is only for religious purposes.

I'd use it for this blog, when I'm veiling, at religious places like quaker meeting, prayer, classes, talking to my tarot decks, writing, stuff like that.

I'm sure this happens to other people, thinking about religion feels much different from when I'm thinking about anything else.

For me, that includes my gender, it's something nonbinary that's indescribably different from any other nonbinary flavor I regularly experience.

So if my spirituality unlocks a secret gender when tapped into, perhaps I should give that part of me - maybe it's my higher self, whatever else - it's own name, y'know?

Do any other religious trans/nonbinary/genderfluid people relate? Have their own 'altar' name?

I'm not sure I'm happy with calling it an altar name either, we'll see. I don't want to call it an omnist name, it's not an exclusively omnist concept.

Surely there already is a name for this kind of name? Let me know. Or if I've explained all this terribly.

#musings #genderfluid #namefluid #gender fluidity #trans theology #omnism #queer theology #queer spirituality #queer witchcraft #trans witchcraft #name fluidity #not confident in how well i worded this i gotta just post it

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dank-banshee · 11 months

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“The burden of the beasts of the south: into the land of trouble and anguish, from whence come the young and old lion, the viper and fiery flying serpent.” -Isaiah 30:6

[Image ID: An acrylic painting of a fiery serpentine angel. Their body is in a sunset gradient with a black background and white marks signifying motion. /. End ID]

#serpent #angels #angelcore #queer spirituality #painting #dankart #biblically accurate angel

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misspjsuperior · 2 months

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🪷 Guan Yin is “the one who sees all sounds in the world”, perceiving and honoring all human lamentation and celebration. She is also a Trans goddess. How?

Previously known as the male bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara or Padmapani from India, once reverence of this Buddhist “lotus bearer” settled in China, he transformed into a sort of Goddess of Mercy, the ever-compassionate Guan Yin we know of today who is also widely revered in Korea and Japan as well, often known by her name “Kannon” in many temples. So that makes Guan Yin not only an honestly international Goddess, but a Trans Goddess as well.

In the name of Guan Yin, divinity of ultimate compassion, blessed International Day Trans of Visibility to all Trans folks- even those not yet safe to be visible. 🏳️‍⚧️

More vulvarobed goddesses available for the bold to bear on their bodies (t shirts) at MissPJsuperior.etsy.com

Altar prints returning there soon too.

Thank you for your support of independent queer femme artists! 🙏

#international women's day #guan yin #trans goddess #bodhisattva #queer spirituality #yoni art #queer pagan #kwan yin #pagan goddesses #feminist history #compassion #intersex #buddhism #transformation #transfem

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spirit-healings · 1 year

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I’m doing free tarot and oracle readings! Guidelines below!

Also, please give this a reblog if you want!

Free Tarot and Oracle Reading Guidelines

-I will not read for anyone under 18.

-I will not answer “how does X feel about me?”I am not a mind reader. What I CAN answer are questions such as “What are some potential moves I should make to improve/grow my relationship with X?”

-Keep in mind that I am only sharing my interpretation of the cards. Take what resonates, leave the rest.

-I will not do readings via ask/DM. Please fill out the Google form. This is to ensure that I have all information necessary to do the best possible reading.

#queer spirituality #trans spirituality #oracle cards #faith #tarot #witchblr #witchcraft #witch #free readings #free tarot #free oracle reading #tarotblr

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queer-altars-mt · 2 months

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Neamh-dhénártha (Translation: Third Gender, Divine Gender)

Once a demon saw a gentle-looking man walking down the street. The demon had just finished its lunch break, and, with a burp and a stretch, thought it ought to get back to work and put sin into that fellow’s heart. Just as it was gripping into the man’s chest, an angel appeared.

“Stop! By the power of the Most High, I command you leave this human.” The angel’s many eyes of fire stared the demon down, and it’s voice was like landslides and thunder.

The demon, though panicked, gave a wicked face. “Who said you could tell me what to do?”

“I am an angel, emissary of the Divine Name Most High” said the angel, readjusting its flaming sword. “It is with that authority I cast you out.” It lifted the blade with practiced ease.

“Oh, you can just ‘know’ you’re an angel now? That’s ridiculous!” the demon scoffed. “You’re delusional! Show me your birth certificate! Lift your shining robes and show me the place where God touched you and pronounced you an angel!”

The angel tilted its head. “I don’t think God actually does that?” it said uncertainly. It lowered the sword.

“Unless God comes down here and tells me himself that he smacked your ass and called you an angel when you were born, I don’t believe it. Why, just anyone could call themselves an angel! And then where would we be? People would be throwing around flaming swords left and right, and poor demons like me would never be safe! It would destroy the entire system! You won’t get me with your outrageous doublespeak, pervert. You may get off on calling yourself an angel, but that doesn’t mean I have to believe it!”

The angel blinked every one of its’ many eyes. “I don’t know what to tell you,” it said, gesturing to its’ unfathomable glowing form. “Angel.” It gestured to the demon. “Demon.” It hefted the sword. “Flaming sword. You shall not pass.” But its’ voice was full of doubt.

The demon laughed in its’ face. “Prove it!” And it dove for the man’s chest and began to claw its’ way in. The angel sat down on the man’s shoulder and held one of its’ faces in a couple of its’ many hands, thinking. How could anyone really know whether they were an angel or a demon? Did it just think it was an angel because it wanted to be? Was it really delusional? Maybe it was a demon, but just a particularly angelic one? It held open the hem of its’ robe and peered inside, getting a double-chin. Was there supposed to be a Tetragrammaton stamped into its skin?

Meanwhile, the demon had scratched through the man’s sweater, skin, and fascia, and was now on to the delicious fatty layer, under which it would find ribs and muscle. It drooled in anticipation. The man felt something like heartburn, and began to think about how much he hated his neighbor Jake, whose beautiful donkey was a four-time winner at the state fair. His own donkey continued to under-perform despite some very expensive dietary supplements and a five-step grooming routine.

The man’s bony shoulder shifted under the angel, jolting the flaming sword. It reached out reflexively and watched its’ hand clasp naturally around the grip. Staring at its’ fingers made of antimatter and starlight, it blinked all its’ eyes at once and jumped to its’ feet. It unfurled its’ wings. “Demon! I have the proof – I am an angel!”

“Oh yeah?” said the demon, around a mouthful of muscle. “Why’s that?”

“I act like one,” said the angel. And it lopped off the demon’s head.

Caspen Black (they/them/theirs)

#love this written submission!#mt queer altars #queer spirituality #trans divinity #queer altar #writing #short story

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