Thursday, November 21, 2013

The Trick

A minor miracle, you rise
from nothingness, the ghostly gray
palm on stage, like Venus did,
stepping into flesh from foam.

We do not perceive the sleeve,
the preparations, the pair of pearl
buttons fastening the glove,
the tall black hat of magic. Our

eyes are fixed on what’s beyond
already, following a flash
and flutter high above: a dove,
like love, or life, gone up in smoke.

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