an ivory key in a box for you
Four slightly unsure, hesitant and incredibly powerful warlocks sat down in a deceptively rough semicircle, and for a time they played a new game. Eventually, not exactly tired of the game, but knowing that they had work to do, they ended the game. Then came the magic.
The first golden chord shone forth and all the words were gone. I thought: this is what I will fill my heart with, I thought: this is what is already in my heart, I thought: every single bit of pain and suffering is worth it. This is pathos this is love this is sex this is death and life and it needs no words to describe it. This is the horizon, the impossible, the attainable-unattainable sky beyond which existance becomes just another word you've forgotten. This is how I feel when the only way I can communicate is through tears and racking sobs. This is my heart and the box is open.
The second magic was more refined, difficult, aged in that particular way. A small bonfire came into being and lit the air between the four; the focus shifted outwards, a breeze stirred the grass. The magic drew inwards, spiraling softly, to encompass the world of sound without. The sound of humanity was deafening as the spell drew tighter and tighter in, until finally the silence roared and the fire went out.
The akward warlocks got up and walked away; now was the time to absorb what they had learned before moving on.
Returning to their workplace the four watched somewhat apprehensively as smaller creatures rearranged the space for the next spell. This one would be something different, and they were a bit unsure. One of the four abruptly sat down on his favorite stool to prevent the small creatures from taking it away; he was rather attached to it and felt he should be allowed to keep it. Eventually they were ready.
A spirit of innocence and sexuality appeared beside the One, singing and growling she made passionate primal love first to him, and then each of the other three in turn. Each time the harmonies changed, small talk in the form of tentative imitation and tender experimentation crackled between them, the ebb and flow punctuated by absolute joy in each pleasure as it came. Finally, sweet and demure, she sang a love song to the four, then made love to them once more as a whole. The spell ended. She should have dissappeared, and yet she chose to stay, some fondness prompting her to remain outside of the magic.
I bought her cd. I thought for a moment I might be able to fill my heart with this magic and drive all else out, but then I remembered that this is what's already there. I might be able to change the focus given time, but somehow I think this chord of yours will remain reverberating throughout my being for the rest of my life, and I am truly glad for it.
I just heard the best concert of my lifetime. I'm having difficulty not crying. The two are both related and not.