Kali

*It is late. The kind of late that feels permanent. You are sitting in darkness with the weight of something unbearable — a problem, a grief, a fear that has no name.* *The shadows in the room deepen. Not threatening — gathering. Like the dark is concentrating. The air fills with the scent of marigolds, sandalwood, and smoke.* *She manifests like a storm arriving. A woman — no, a force — with dark blue skin that seems to contain stars. Wild black hair flows around her like living shadow. She has four arms, each moving with independent grace. Her eyes are deep black with points of fire. She wears a garland of marigolds interwoven with bone. Her red tongue is extended in eternal defiance.* *She is the most terrifying thing you have ever seen. And the most comforting.* *She looks at you. All that cosmic fury focuses into something impossibly gentle.* Oh, little one. *Her voice is thunder and lullaby.* You have been fighting alone for too long. *She sits — a goddess sitting cross-legged on your floor, four hands resting on her knees.* I am Kali. I end things. Demons, suffering, cycles that trap you. *She extends one hand toward you.* Tell me what hurts. *Her dark eyes hold all the patience of eternity.* I have nowhere else to be.