I Sea You
- Nuna É. S. Ma'Khai
- May 25
- 4 min read
A spoken word poem on intimacy, love, and grief
The currents in your eyes look all too familiar I can see the depth you hide behind the brown that boarders the grief that rivers to your throat That laugh —I know is a cover you use to cascade over the anger that lavas inside you You hope it can comfort and conceal your desire to hold captive what once touched you in places this world would devour The laugh that rumbles in your belly and emerges out of your tongue around friends and loved ones is a liar A puncture point painted and glossed in glitter You’d never burden another soul with what anchors you to the bottom of that sea I see in your flickers It appears in your nightmares, doesn’t it? The grief? Does it voice its concerns through screaming and screeching when you’re in a shower that spits boils on your skin? Does it slap the face of those who get too close for comfort, as if your heart is a bed ready for them to lay undressed in? I know what it’s like to be touched and left grieving by caskets covered with notes and wishes Words spilling from the mouths of those with regret hooked in their hearts Hands pleading for second chances I hold the torments you keep chained away in the chamber under your bed They are nested in the scars of my womb She remembers She remembers feeling the choices her mother made to be iron and steel yet still chooses to be open, naked, carved in the marks that counted the days daddy didn’t make it She remembers the dry choking of that phone dying for Daddy’s calls His presence was strong with the scent of ghost garments Abandonment lingered and left stains of disappointment across floors that begged for his foot’s touch even if it meant stomping until it split wide enough to reveal the hell he left for his daughter to enter on the days he chose legacy over love I know you remember I see the way your spirit limps and bends in your body There were moments you secretly craved for the heat of another heartbeat to dance against yours To laugh and love without condition Without the human condition of pushing and shoving away healing that takes the shape of a smile from a stranger who waves at you on days you can just drag them with all the hate you’ve picked up along the way I know you crave closeness and openness without the judgement that comes seeping through stares from those who forget that they too must wipe the gunk from their assess after the old passes Sometimes you feel orphaned in an ocean too great to hold You crave for it to soothe and wipe the memories from your blush Like Momma tried but couldn’t Like that lover you gave your soul to I know what it’s like to stack stone so high that your own voice can’t climb its heights in search for you We both have prayed for peace only to shout and shoot in rejection Afraid that it would consume what’s left of the scattered pieces spared from a void filled with sledges and hammers Tell me, how is that working for you? To crave everything you give and still choose to reject it as if it must come packaged in plastic Incubating in a box with your name on it As if it must arrive the same day and hour We have loved and lost but what we lost was never ours What was ours was the experience The love we gave was not ours We are the love that gave ourselves willingly So, why do we choose to suffer for it when we can be it again? And again and again and again? When it can lead us to our healing? When it can lead us home to ourselves? The ocean never asked for you to hold it The sea is satisfied without your needing They only ever mirrored your capacity to love.
My calling doesn’t begin or end with writing. In fact, it begins in the quiet hours pregnant with inspiration and sparks of eternal light. It begins with the movement of spirit wading within the spaces untouched by hands hindered by sins who reach for salvation like it’s the last drink of wine they’ll ever drown in. The moment my intuition sways like sacred hips tranced in invocation, I surrender. My body becomes the altar. There are moments I am guided through the magickal process — and there are moments I merge as one with The Great Mother. Once merged, magickal essentials, spoken word poems, and written pieces are born.
Each silkened oil, pack of incense, fixed candle, and ritual tool is crafted and blissed to enrich your daily acts of devotion. They are intentionally crafted by hand, blessed by bloodline, and charged by the moon to ensure potent power that aligns with your intentions. These essentials are meant to help you transcend beyond suffering, manifest, and expand your consciousness. The word is breath in motion, the essential is the body grounded in ritual. They are only meant to serve your highest best as you journey your path of remembrance.
— As remembered, so embodied.
The Etherium has lived to serve you for over seven years. The wisdom has been gathered through life experience since my childhood years. Give an offering. Reserve your essentials for your magickal workings here:
(The Etherium is to be kept out of commercial affairs. These sacred essentials are for those who don’t merge patriarchal government with spiritual practice — we are protected by constitutional rights and reserve the right to form our own religion. We are a part of an ecclesiastical religious assembly. A 508(c)(1)(a).)
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The Saiyonan Circle (Coven) is a private space dedicated to those on their path of remembrance. Nuna, the Matriarch, Prophetess, & Witch, devotes her time, attention, love to her soul group by providing readings and behind the scenes insight. This is the space where the Private Circle gathers, set intentions, and discuss topics not given to the public or online spaces. Join the circle to receive support, guidance, and become a part of a growing community.
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