I had already walked far from the safari camp when I realized I had not only forgotten to announce my departure, but had also forgotten to ask if it was safe to walk alone. Surely someone would have warned me if it were not. At any rate, it was too late now. I sat upon a rock at the edge of the sea with my feet buried in the fine warm sand. Never in my life had I been more alone than in that moment. I imagined myself the last survivor of a shipwreck washed onto a deserted beach. That mental fantasy sent tiny streams of acid through my now cavernous gut. That was the moment I was supposed to stand up and begin my walk back to camp. Had I done so I would have been only slightly late for lunch.

I noticed a small figure far in the distance walking my way. "It must be him," I thought to myself. Each day I had seen him pass by on his way to the small village to the north. My friend had warned, in his best colonial prejudice, that I should not indulge him. "They will do anything for money," he said, "it’s the only thing that matters to them." Somehow I always felt he was only projecting self-analysis. The only reason he had overlooked my lack of pedigree was that artists are exempted. I was sure I had more in common with this wild man from the jungle! I had no misgivings about the greetings we exchanged on the beach each afternoon as he passed on the way to his village.

My plan was working very well. I had calculated the time and distance so I would be alone on the beach with him. I knew there were no villages to the south for hundreds of kilometers. What a fantasy, to be at the mercy of a wild man on a deserted beach at the edge of the jungle. As I anticipated his arrival I drew upon the memory of the large veins which crossed the back of each of his knees. The muscles in his huge calves pulsated below his firm round buttocks with each step he took. With this image fixed in my mind I sat on the rock gazing out over the ocean.

I stood up and began walking in his direction when he was as close as a hundred meters. I could see his beautiful white teeth acknowledge my approach. No words were spoken as we danced together in the sand for ten minutes or more. It was as if I remembered something which had been stolen from me, unnoticed, long ago. I followed his lead as he pulled me into the ritual dance of male spirit. He reached out and touched my beard, stroking it with strength and tenderness in the same movement. He caught the tiny droplets of sweat which raced from my armpit down toward my hip, studied them on the tip of his finger, then seductively sucked the salt into his own body. I was now the virgin who gladly accepted my fate to be sacrificed. I would die to be born again into a better life. We rolled across the hot sand together, freeing one more layer of guilt each time I faced the sun. I was the snake shedding his skin. I felt the snake come alive inside my spine. I saw the serpent poised to strike and I swallowed him and we became one and the same.

Now he was inside me and I remembered what it means to be one with nature. I wanted him to stay inside me forever, that I could live in his world, untarnished by Western, Christian dogma. We danced a slow methodical rhythm designed to push him further into the center of my being. With each step the serpent seemed to grow longer, but with each step I also became more open. I wanted him to penetrate the core of my soul, to impregnate me with his male spirit. We sang together as the serpent spewed his sweet venom inside me. Like the ouroboros he then devoured me and I spewed my venom inside him, and we died together in that sweet moment of passion when two becomes one, and the one becomes one with the universe.

We were motionless for a good hour or more before the first thoughts came to separate us. I began to cry like the child who understands in the first moment of life that he has been separated from the source of life itself. He carefully mimicked my sounds. I felt his voice inside me jumping over the thoughts which had come to silence me. I felt his strong powerful hands lift me to my feet. We danced through the octaves with eight calculated movements. My cry became bigger than life until no sound could be heard. He had once again rescued me in the moment my rational mind attempted to kill my pagan spirit. He pushed my limbs gently beyond the limits imposed by my shrinking Western mind. Each time I wanted to say stop, to run back to my empty seat at the table, he would send the serpent back into my center and my soul would cry, "Let thy will be done!" I could no longer recognize my own voice, for it had been ages since I had last heard my spirit sing. There was no one to silence me and I no longer had the strength or need to silence myself.

I began to survey this creature who had unwittingly rescued me from my self-imposed prison. I had been for hours enveloped in a trance of self-discovery. Now I was ready to come back into the physical world with my rediscovered consciousness. His dark smooth skin glistened as I watched my hand explore every curve. I now brought vision into play, where before I had only known the ecstasy of spirit. I had been lifted by his innocence and purity to a place where I could see my own absurd position in self-denial. I had tasted the forbidden fruit on the way back into the garden, indulging in the carnal pleasures without the judgment of the world I had left behind.

Now I sat facing him with our legs around each other. I looked into his eyes and caught myself falling inside of him. He had no barriers to keep me out, so I got lost in his strange world of intimacy, the kind of which I had never even allowed myself with myself. He stretched his tongue to the tip of my nose and I devoured it. I felt him probing the orifice, touching every place to stimulate the saliva. Suddenly I felt his tongue growing longer as he thrust it down my throat. I was once again the virgin as I felt him manipulate muscles in his tongue that sent shivers down my spine. I felt the serpent rising once again between us. I put my hands around his neck, leaning backwards keeping our mouths together. As he pulled his tongue back the serpent made its way up my spine. I closed my eyes and rode the wave of feeling that pulled me back into trance. This time I had the memory clear in my mind and I went willingly. I had the desire that his tongue and the serpent would touch the center of my being at the same moment. Then I would be free. I could feel my spirit rising up out of my body.

Then I began to hear voices, first indistinguishable, then clear. I felt myself being lifted into the air. My tongue was swollen and I found it hard to breathe or swallow. I felt a thirst that seemed to be unquenchable.

"It’s a wonder you weren’t eaten by some wild beast!" I heard my friend say, "Or carried off by some savage for who knows what," he added to make his thought complete.

As I opened my eyes I could see the faint outline of my friend, his arms flailing to augment his speech. I closed my eyes and felt the tongue of the wildman choking the breath from my body. I relaxed as I felt the serpent rising from the center to devour his own tail. My friend’s voice faded, replaced by the sound of songbirds in the garden. I had returned to the place from where I had come and I was free once again!