South Africa

A man made of ivory encountered a black parade. All but one were chanting to their god of love: “If you love me, give me!” “Love me!” “Give me!” Shouting towards the sky, their chants ecoed across the world. Men of all sizes knelt and gave their tribute.

“If you love me, give me!” They continued to praise. Their cries grew louder, louder. The world began to shiver to their rhythm. Women gave their wombs to their praise, housed their love with their own till they themselves were consumed.

“Love me!” “Give me!” They cried, but the ivory man stood firm.

“I love you.” The man whispered.

“Give me! Give me!” They bellowed, they quivered, their voices fell silent,

“No.”

“Why wont you love me! Love me! Love me!” The storm grew louder.

“No, I won’t.” The ivory tower didn’t lean, didn’t tilt.

“Give me! Give me!” The assembly grew louder, louder, surrounding the ivory tower. Demanding their tribute, their sacrifice.

“I love you, no, no I won’t.” The skies heard his plea and grew darker. Clouds gathered and the sun itself hid from sight.

A frenzy awoke from within the mass. Orgasmic trances overcame the herd, swaying their arms wildly like flames reaching for the summit.

“I love you.” The ivory man said.

With that, the swarm began to climb, to reach the peak, to get the point. Their words turned to iron spears, digging deep into the ivory tower. “Why won’t you love me! Love me! Why won’t you give me! Give me!” The chorus peaked. Reaching the height of the very pinnacle. But still the man said: “No.”

As the notion grew, grew to the top of the tower. The man never shook, never beckoned. Standing firm, the tower held it’s own. “I love you, I love you more than you know.” The man spoke with words that failed to eco, failed to ring for it held the love of man.

“Then give me, give me!” The black parade cheered as the foundation cracked and crumbled. The tower was failing, faulted by the very ground that held it. All was lost for the ivory man, for no more white could be seen. Not for miles around, not from the sky nor the ground. The sun had failed him. Took his glisten and hid it under the heavenly mists.

“Why won’t you give!?” The final cry grew. With no more chance, the ivory man said: “You have not suffered, you cannot know, you would not know.”

Then the sky rolled up like a scroll, and the heavens began to rain.