Holy Smoke & Mirrors! Poem by Axley Blaze

A magician, my master
All that smoke, the way I'd dance
As it curled around my waist
You, your eyes, they watched every movement.
You were a glorified, sexual spy;
The Theatrical role in the novel I was composing.
Who I was inevitably going to love
Isn't that how all these predictable stories end?

I see you now, watching.
Watching, watching
I was so busy gracefully spinning,
I was so busy gently typing our destiny,
The click of another button
Penning our romance into history.

I wonder now;
About all that smoke, those mirrors.
I thought I was the one producing magic.
Little did I know
I was the mystic who fell for another magician's magic.

As you tugged for one more roll of smoke,
My body was in rhythm right along with it.
Really, it was the dance of death. Of Beauty.

Still, how I loved that story.

© copyright 2019-2024 Holy Smoke & Mirrors! Nicole D'Settēmi