There’s a fair amount of darkness that lives within me.

It’s a beautiful thing. It wraps itself around me like a spell. Lingering over me in the moments before I awake.

Like an enchantment sometimes I can only feel the very edges of it. At yet at other times I feel as though I’m entirely enveloped by it.

It’s the incense that twirls around my home in long tendrils of smoke.

It’s the rich black walls that close in around me as though I were blanketed by the night sky.

It’s the dreams that haunt me when I sleep. The memories that feel as though they’re not my own.

It’s recognizing a place I’ve never been before. It’s knowing a person I’ve never met before.

There’s magic in the darkness. It’s as though it has known me for many lifetimes before this one.

Like the darkness that hovered over the deep before God whispered: “let there be light.” It was there before it all.

So was I.