Foot Fetish

She had feet as delicately formed as her heart

Photo by Elle Hughes: https://www.pexels.com/photo/photo-of-woman-wearing-blue-dress-1549282/

It was a study in sorcery to watch Cisco play the piano, because what poured out of his body and reflected off his fingers and through the keys had nothing in common with his fussy disposition.

His jangled manner was a brittle barrier separating him from emotions so powerful he feared insanity. Having found no human connection where he could relieve a propensity for unbounded adoration, he poured it into music.

Just above the piano there was a pale, holographic image being formed from the piano’s vibration. When he first began to talk about Mary the other musicians thought he meant the Madonna, but he said this was a different Mary. “I conjure her,” he said. “The only hard part now is the feet, because the feet are the understanding.”

The image of Mary began to solidify but she couldn’t stand up because when the body starts from the top down, instead of the bottom up, it can’t connect with the ground until somebody makes it some feet. Cisco was making Mary a set of feet so she could dance on the piano.

He conjured them with the music and the song.

“When we’re in our room and off the walking street,
I’m gonna get sweet on your feet.”

As he sang his body seemed to grow, and to express itself independently of his knowledge or attention. He was powered by a field of energy, where choices of movement were not from habit or repetition, but from a sense of aesthetic impact and emotional relatedness to the the larger field.

Mary had taken on more substance, now, and her voice began to harmonize behind Memphis, high, musical notes of pleasure and invitation.

Her perfectly shaped feet were glowing with pearlescent awareness of their transformation into erotic containers as she danced on the baby grand.

“Look at those little toes, painted baby pink,
I think I saw them wink at me,
They are waving from their ride,
those high heeled shoes they do look good on you.

“You are so delicate, you are a subtle treat,
you arch and slip away into your shoes,
I’ve got a crush on you, right down to your feet.”

Nobody quite knew what to make of Mary. She was real enough. She was part of the consensual reality because she showed up when Cisco was playing the piano, and sometimes she’d dance, and sometimes she’d sing. There was no doubt that she and Cisco were participating in some symbiotic mystery. Cisco wouldn’t talk about it. He’d change the subject, and say something like, “Zeus would fuck a cow.”