Beyond the Air of This World
I wonder after you, Magic; how long has it been? Time seems now as if it is a far larger entity than you ever were. And denounced, vanquished, I fear that you will not return. I question myself and the bitter air above me - were you ever real, or some fanciful hyper-dream of ignorant youth? Either way, I would welcome you back. Foolish notion or pervasive undercurrent of the everything; it matters not. When the self arises within you, Magic, and is borne upon your endless drift...
...It feels as though the drift has come especially for me; exists exactly because I do. Alas, you are banished, Magic. I solemnly denounced you long ago. I don't know that one returns to you from here.
Regardless, I send forth an invitation. Into the cells, into the bones; into the bleeding stones of yesteryear and the darting fears of tomorrow. Into the laughter of the nothing and the furnaces of stars. My ghostly arms reach out to you beyond the air of this world; the spectrum of my ghost is now alive in its search for you, Magic.
I beg you heed my call.