What started off as a search for the right words to describe these tectonic states, evolved into a 3am dance, to music I didn’t hear, but felt.
Be chill, my molten Heart.
LOVECRAFT MAGIC DRIFT
There’s a kind of magic that lingers where the Sand, Ocean and the Sun’s fingertips meet. On that holy property of Mother Nature is where, with any reasonable guess, all love craft is drawn. Why else would I be a ship wrecked on a free Spirit’s wind? Beached and unable to transcribe the words that hurdle through my mind. I can only imitate the dance of a candle’s flickering flame. Then, and only then am I able to see through the dark.
I know there is of magic there- as sure as the gravity she possesses. The kind of magic that vibrates a frequency of music when the only instrument is a tuned Heart. Why else would I sooner call myself a liar than admit that I don’t care. But what is magic but an illusion of simplicity- a misdirection of the eye, but never the curiosity. I can only imitate the dance of a candle’s flickering flame. Then, and only then am I able to see through the dark.
Tasi Alabastro, 2013