reflective witchcraft
i have written spells upon my body.
some were written in ink, and allowed to wash away. in the end, their meanings blur into insignificance, and are lost to time. most of them i can't even remember. spells of temporary binding for things i didn't know i wouldn't need anyway.
some spells have been drawn in blood, the scars of which serve as a warning of betrayal. these are dangerous magic: parted lips issue purity, but are quickly sewn shut by the flesh from which they are carved, as if to say "this is made real, but only for a while" or "this truth will be a lie".
i've had spells sewn into me, with the staccato buzzing of a needle. these are always visible, and shield me from sight. they are deep, slow magic - each one is a piece of my soul stretched forth into the daylight, as fluidly interpretable as a cloud within a dream - more binding than steel. i am protected, restrained by own designs.
i am writing new spells upon my body; this time with chemistry. i am both tightening and being freed from a möbius trap of bondage. these meta-spells are rewriting the secrets that define me, altering the premise of everything that came before. i become a tesseract: both the result and the implementation of the spell.
i write these spells upon my body.
and now that i have felt, i would pay any price.
some were written in ink, and allowed to wash away. in the end, their meanings blur into insignificance, and are lost to time. most of them i can't even remember. spells of temporary binding for things i didn't know i wouldn't need anyway.
some spells have been drawn in blood, the scars of which serve as a warning of betrayal. these are dangerous magic: parted lips issue purity, but are quickly sewn shut by the flesh from which they are carved, as if to say "this is made real, but only for a while" or "this truth will be a lie".
i've had spells sewn into me, with the staccato buzzing of a needle. these are always visible, and shield me from sight. they are deep, slow magic - each one is a piece of my soul stretched forth into the daylight, as fluidly interpretable as a cloud within a dream - more binding than steel. i am protected, restrained by own designs.
i am writing new spells upon my body; this time with chemistry. i am both tightening and being freed from a möbius trap of bondage. these meta-spells are rewriting the secrets that define me, altering the premise of everything that came before. i become a tesseract: both the result and the implementation of the spell.
i write these spells upon my body.
and now that i have felt, i would pay any price.