Last Night, I Could Smell Magic

Written April 21st, 2010.

I hadn't realized my mate left the bedroom window open. In the evening, after I got home, I set the heater on low, and I took my hot shower, and I came back into the bedroom with Vas's Unbecome playing... and just stopped.

The smell. Cool warmth. Enough moisture in the air to turn shadows into dark, waxy green leaves. The sound of passing cars intimate and grittily real, underlaid with haunting music. The touch of the wind on my warm, bare skin and how it slipped into my lungs like pure oxygen, a prayer of flesh.

I laid down on the bed in total darkness. The breeze crept along my limbs, a much-missed lover's caress. I reconnected with myself, touching palms to skin, remembering the weight and strength in my limbs. I kept turning my thoughts away from mundanity and back to the sacred, over and over, unwilling to give up this first taste, this honeyed kiss of the night.

I thought of the Horned God; it was His smell, His taste, His touch, His dark forest overlaying my pedestrian reality.

I let myself nap, knowing my mate would wake me when he came home, not caring about anything but sinking deeper into myself and sleeping immersed in gentle shadow.

When I woke up to my mate, I was half cat and half silvered starlight.

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