The magic never starts immediately.

Period of golden silence.

Like the preparation of a ritual.

Slight action here or there but just cogs winding up for action.

The quiet before stepping through a portal.

Then the silence is shattered into a million fragments.

***

My heart flutters with the change.

Beams of light gather around me.

Calling me upward.

Lifting me with them as they rise.

The heat inside me brought forth.

A fire that makes my T-shirt cling to me like a second skin.

***

I am not one to take drugs at a concert.

The concert itself is a drug.

Inviting me to visit new worlds that only I know about.

Cutting off the worries and problems I normally carry.

Now just as far away as normal life is.

An oasis that is never permanent.

***

What is permanent however is the memory.

Pictures carried in a pocket near my heart.

Just like the pounding I felt deep in my chest.

Shaking me down to my core.

Whenever I need a small dose all I have to do is remove the photo and gaze upon it.

To remember what it felt like to be on the drug called concert.