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Astrally Yours
Through my haze of disorientation she maintained her splendor. Not the temporary and elusive beauty of humans, but the lasting glamour of the fae, or perhaps the elves. Her physical features reminiscent of the Afro-Celts, the most powerful of the witches. It was her eyes, however, that penetrated me, and her pointed ears that captured those faint whispers that seemed to emanate from the expanse; those whispers that I later came to realize were my own thoughts.
As she held me closer, I could feel her immense power, radiating from her every pore. If it weren�t for her jubilance I would try to break away in fear. But her energy worked to drive out my every anxiety. Though I stood taller, she was still the lead, manipulating my every movement. Teaching me to move with her same grace.
So there we danced, for hours on end, surrounded by the flickering candlelight of the Wiccan circle. The pentacle, our protection from the envious eyes watching from the darkness beyond. The fog through which I could only make out the silhouettes of swaying trees and creeping beasts.
Her deep breathing only added to the surrealism of the moment, as the direction of the winds changed with her every breath. Though I was tempted, I refrained from opening my physical eyes, the flawed eyes that leave astral entities unseen. Instead she strengthened my third eye, the chakra leading my mind. She and I wanted to remain together, forever, so she could always dance, and I could always worship.
Until now, she had always been alone in this dark place, longing to be loved. But I was the mystery, what had I been formerly? One of the beasts lurking beyond the circle, or a cloud of ether? A question that would always go unanswered for me, for I knew better than to question the magick that brought me into being. I knew better than to question the power with which I was bestowed; the shear perfection. Though she was the creator, I was the stability, and her heart lay before me as the ultimate offering. Would I cherish it, or would I betray it with unforeseen masculine impulses?
Finally, she had finished her mold. She needed only to give me life. To press her lips against mine and breathe. And so it was done, and I was no longer her student, but her equal, and soon her lover. I didn�t hesitate to invite myself below her cloak, and she didn�t make any attempt to hold me back. So together we flew, out of the circle, out of the dark lands, and into the unknown. To rear beasts of our own and wash over all things.
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