Magician

I am a magician!
but she – she is magic!
I lost the plot and gambled the lot,
all for a taste of the tragic!

What I could ‘see’ by understanding
she just ‘knew’ without much thought.
I wasn’t sure what to do, but I thought maybe she knew
how to find out what it was that I sought.

This thing that I can’t even describe,
maybe she can reveal.
There’s a strangeness in her that,
somewhat queerly, I dearly wished to feel.

I told her “I trust my tricks and nothing else!
For within them I am free!”
“Well magician,” she smiled, “best find some magic
to make a trick out of me!”

She waited there, outside my bubble,
in a world that felt like a boxing ring.
And me who had always spurned the tragedy of life
started to wonder the strangest thing…

Within her my magician’s eyes saw
a trick I had never seen.
Something deeper than magic, that seemed awfully tragic:
but my, oh my, what a dream!

Could this be the trick that I’d never seen?
Deep pleasure flowering from seeds bitter and tragic?
What trickery could craft such alchemy?
I’m a magician, but this, this is magic!

For such a trick to master, I will do
what I have never dared!
I left the bubble and fell in love,
and vowed to not try and understand.

And magic took me on a fine fine ride,
full of laughs and tears and great adventure.
And she sang to me “enjoy the magnificent illusion
that I the best trick send you”.

And magnificent it was! Full of every possible emotion
and feeling and passion and energy .
and I the magician declared “I am drunk on love,
and it’s the best trick ever seen by me.

I could solve the trick if I stopped drinking…
But sobering up seems rather drastic!
Suffice to say I surrender to love,
for I am a magician – but she – she is magic!”

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