Intimates: A Journey Towards Sacred Sexuality

by Francis Kroncke

CHAPTER 27

  Isn’t Jesus, also Christ, enough?

  Suppose he isn’t?

  But if you believe in Christ ... in the Ascension?

  I believe. But maybe not how you do.

  Even these Smithys praise Him!

  Didn’t she tell you? They say you are Him!

  Risen?

  Yeah: smirk: Risen!

  So, your point, my great Doubter!

  There’s a point: points southward. Risen, not just to Rule in Heaven but Fuck throughout the Cosmos!

  Those girls? Blushed shock.

  Did you ever hear a sermon about ... about that at Mass?!

  Muttering: They go to a Temple.

  Ha! C’mon, say it.

  (Muted bewilderment.)

  Maybe that’s the problem.

  I can say it ... but not about Him.

  Who doesn’t believe, now?

  (Frown.)

  Isn’t he a man?

  (Slow "Yes.)

  Fully?

  There’s a difference ...

  Between ...?

  XER: Being a man, and, and - male. He wasn’t that way.

  What way?

  (Uncomfortable thoughts: breath momentarily held; cheeks, lips, eyebrows a frozen pastiche of consternation.)

  Not upright? Ha.

  Don’t!

  Why do you want more than that?

  Thought I didn’t, till I did.

  Aw, it’s all in your imagination.

  Yeah?

  You doubt prophecy? The Urim and Thummin!

  Like just adolescent thoughts. All jumbled. Crazy. Weird.

  So?

  So - so, maturity is figuring it out.

  It?

  MARK: The simplicity of it. Men and women. Males and females. One goes in. One comes out. It’s like "fire in the hole," but hell, it ain’t god ... or anything like that!

  Sure?

  Sure.

  ("I Coupled with her. Why wasn’t it any different than when Courting?" The Ancient Ones, all the Deacons, were mute, not just silent. He knew he was right. Had always tallied correctly! "I’m just fucking bored out of my mind!" … He awoke.)

  God was intimate with Mary, so why not with us?

  Lan, don’t say that!

  Don’t say you never thought?! Mother God.

  If I did - and I’m not saying - only Father would know.

  If you did confess it, what did He say?! Come here, girl: seductively; lewd.

  You’re terrible, girl!

  No. It’s terrible not to think it - not to know it. My vagina is the Gateway to Eternal Bliss. It’s Holy. Sacred. A Grove. Not just a baby chute! Even here on Earth, this Planet Eternally Young! Giggles, a self-confident giggle.

  You’re shameless!

  So?

  Pondering; wondering: The Pre-Ascendancy gods did it with geese or something, right? All life?

  You’re missing the point. No one should be "doing it" to another! It’s not sex. It’s sex without having sex. Presence, relationship, get it?

  Oh, sure, me and Mark, too literal - you two on that again?

  Empathetic: Can you really feel it only as an invasion?

  How can you not?

  ("War of the Sexes, baby!" en garde.)

  Know, you should keystroke that for CourtingWeb.

  ZAV: Holy J-S! you’re missing the point.

  Oooo, ole Four-Bears, hit something there, didn’t I?

  No, you missed something there, asshole.

  Tsk. Tsk. You’re the one turning us into Holy Cocks! Smithy’s gotcha!

  Can’t you get past that?

  Where’s past that?

  I like the candles and stuff. You’re very imaginative. Even if a bit daffy!

  Like the frosting on the cake, but not the cake?

  Why put it that way?

  Just an image.

  CILLA: That’s insulting. As if the only one who really knows what sex is!

  I didn’t mean that.

  But you do it every time. Every time.

  You’re angry.

  Genius!

  What?

  Not this time! No, listen, the body’s the body. The soul’s the soul. Mark and I have talked about this. You and Zav aren’t the only ones who share intimacy, ya know.

  Sorry.

  (Fury.)

  More coffee?

  We pray.

  Before. After. During.

  During?

  Yeah; okay … but what?

  That we’ll be receptive, open, thoughtful of the other person - not just self-centered. We want, what’s, how to put it? Sounds wrong, but purity. We want our love to be pure.

  How can it be impure?

  (On tower watch, sentinel for the flanking action.)

  Again: Can it be impure?

  You jest?

  I do?

  C’mon, you know what’s impure!

  (Raised eyebrows, "Oh really?" lip smirk.)

  Why can’t you be literal on this one?

  This is the only one which isn’t literal.

  Oh, right!

  That’s why it’s the Virgin Birth. You know that, poet.

  So, it’s not the woman who’s Virgin, but the child?

  A Truth from the Ages: an ageless balance – from out of nothing is something created. From the filth of her flesh, the purity of our souls!

  "I and the Father are One"? Literal? Naturally, I see - because males really don’t need women, not for spiritual birth?

  Don’t need to twist that!

  You mean it’s not just Jesus; it’s all men? Prissy’s got to you! You’re losing your Catty edge.

  Not really. The Mystical Body. That’s why it’s Mystical and not Profane. Females are here on Earth. They will pass as the Earth passes.

  If Jesus - I don’t care: IF Buddha, IF Mohammed, IF Joseph Smith, IF the Pope, IF Zoraster - I simply don’t care ... if any male can have union with the Divine, why can’t women?

  MARCH: (Resigned. Open-hand gesture. Surrender: how do I know?)

  Are we left with just a divine Switcheroo?

  God, did’ja use that line on all the Greenies?!

  You’re hopeless!

  You’re hapless!

  Fine.

  Fine.

  Zav: Being sacred: our flesh bends that oxymoron. It’s not Balance, it’s Identity. Sameness and Otherness simultaneously. Multi-dimensional - aw, you’re just too fucking stubborn!

  Me? You won’t give up on Sacred Pussy. You’re the one who can’t accept flesh - that it dies, decays. Ever think you’re just chasing the Pre-Ascendancy Dream of Eternal Youth? ‘Fraid to die?

  No. I never thought of that.

  Now, who’s pissed?

  You’re just a dick-head.

  Names! Names!

  Who else will talk with you about this?

  I’ve met some.

  Some what - switcheroos? Ha.

  Maybe. Who cares? There are women out there who love only their bodies. They don’t switch back. Is that Bad?

  Suppose Zav locked the gate?!

  That’s not the point.

  Seems to be?!

  No. Don’t you see. When we go inward, slip, there’s no in or out, no enter, exit. Because there are no lines, no boundaries. They’re erased.

  Erased? I know the boys smoke, but you?

  Gee, Priscilla, your body’s more potent than blossom.

  (Hard pause. Unhappy thought.)

  That’s what happens? He can inhale you?

  Even with the kids, you still do it?

  Especially because of the kids. Look, it happened, really, truly knock-my-socks-off happened because of the kids.

  Okay. It was spiritual for me too. Kids are spooky.

  I don’t think ....

  Wrong, again?

  Not wrong.

  Then?

  Incomplete.

  Fuck you!

  I’m me. You’re you. She’s her. There’s no We – no The Embrace. It’s just abusing langu
age.

  But suppose language is conjuration?

  Suppose the moon is made of green cheese. Childish.

  But suppose Cilla’s clit is a spiritual source, a spiritual force – if God is Pater Omnipotens how can there not be Mater Omnipotens?

  If I’m truly a God as is Revealed, don’t I create "from nothing" – isn’t that clear? Men have always known: women are nothing. If not this, then there is no Truth!

  Hold it! Stop! – It’s not this or that, not a choice: women are, men are: have been forever: will be: accept! your cock is just a note on the scale of your skin: her pussy, a keyboard. That there is music - to be made, created: Celestial. Doesn’t that excite you?

  Frankly, no.

  Why, oh, why are we driven to talk like this?

  You’re driving. I’m just the passenger.

  (Another beer. Another toke.)

  Maybe I should just suck my own dick!

  There’s barely enough; just the way it is. Suppressed fulmination.

  Okay.

  No, you don’t mean "okay," you mean "I’m not listening, anymore."

  Really?

  Really.

  (Checking the time.)

  PRISSY: It’s not just that men control the world, you know. It’s that they alone imagine: imagine they’re alone … PRICKS!!

  I thought that was your sine qua non?

  Touché.

  (Priscilla pushes her cup towards Lily’s - the code for imminent departure.)

  Next week?

  Of course.