Once I asked the universe for a man who would fuck me like a whore – I was ready for tongue and skin and fire and molten. My nipples became a beacon for my next lover’s hands.

The universe heard me, and sent El Diablo. It was beautiful at first, he had a buttery voice and fingers so expert they could strum a guitar to orgasm, but I forgot to say I also needed kindness. I had to learn how important kindness was in love.

Mystic Jeanne Adwani, who teaches the Tarot, told me The Devil will poke at all your old wounds – he will Devil invite you into a deeper knowing of yourself. How much do you trust you, not the external world? The Devil and the Lovers are directly affiliated, which made so much sense to me.

It’s our job to adjust our dreams as we grow. They don’t stay the same and how could they? We are forever changing, growing, evolving. And believe me, the Universe has our back, we can’t forget it’s a partnership.

The Devil comes as teacher, helping us connect to our shadow side. Over the years I have learned to be more specific in my requests.

Oh, El Diablo…

He can unhook your bra from across the room
with his thoughts,
Take your silk dress off with his perfect teeth.
He’ll listen to all your stories as if
from the lips of a God,
then put your secrets on a billboard.
The devil may have a large cock
or a fast tongue,
he may wear wings that
turn into horns
just as your hips rise to his smoke.
He will invite you to Paris
to sleep on cotton sheets
woven on the edge of the Nile,
and offer you dreams
that would make even a witch blush.
All the time he is staring
at his own reflection in your eyes.
If your thoughts shift
to a girl you loved,
he will become that girl
with a gold ring on every finger
and stardust in her hair.
You wake in the morning to
a buttery croissant and hot espresso
and the sound of the door closing.
All this time you have forgotten
you have children.
You sigh into the fertile soil
of what could have been
and a garden begins to grow.
You sit down to write this poem.