The campfire dims down, as I cradle her in my arms. Chest to chest, breath to breath, sparks rise between us. Eyes lock to eyes, shaking back and forth. Moans escape lips, and we dig down deep, we dance.

My fangs sink in. Gods yes, I yes, fill me up. Fill me up. I pull her tight, and give back the gift. Screams erupt in the sparks between us. Growls and feral truths. Dance with me, dance with me.

Over the past year, I have done comparatively little energy play. I used to do a lot, but since I got sick last summer, I pulled back. Doubt and low energy reserves to start with, my inner self shriveled up. My spiritual practices fell by the wayside as I shook inside. Fears of my Goddess having left me.  Shaking in the loneliness as drop by drop my inner light fell behind a shade.

Moments would erupt out from the darkness of my spirit. Moments, and then back into the shade. Back into the shade.

The past two weeks, hope rekindles full form. I had felt times in the past year where the shade broke- pentacles coursing through my body and my lips tingling with potential, with truth, with life and spark. But two weeks ago a beast crawled out from the muck and the mire and into my claws. Dirt became mud became sighs and the gift of breath. They opened up their heart and I ate heartily.

I am an ethical psychic vampire. I have been for most of my life. Michelle Belanger argues that there are those of us who spend more energy than our bodies produce. That we need juice, energy, prana, mana, essence to be able not just to keep going, but to be emotionally, energetically and physically healthy. I walk the path of Priest, and hear their truths ring out in my ears.

But the advice I gave to another psi-vamp was unheeded by my own ears. I lay in my own shade and could not crawl up to feed. Stories of worth and how much work it would be, a literal “starvation mentality,” blocked my way. I wither, I shrink in.

And you know what? Folks can tell. Not just on my body, but how I walk in the world. When I fill up, I stand taller, I can grant my help to others, I can serve my purpose on the planet.  My weakness serves no one.

We each have times in the shade. What do you need to enter the light of your own being, or dance in the full moon rays?

I open up to bared necks and open hearts who believe in me. They are under my boot. They are wrapped in my arms. Their scales pass under my claws. Feathers brush across my cheeks.

My beloved looks in my eyes, and sees me again. We dive in and remember why we were here to begin with, because each of us are actually here and present to be part of it.

Hope pulses down my throat.

Wrapped in my arms, we dance. We write and bite and fuck and dream. We speak taboo words, or no words at all. We open up, and spiral towards the heaven.

Dance.

Dance.