The Magician’s Hands

I met a man who dazzled me.

A magician of his craft,

he captivated me with a slight of his hand
making something out of nothing,
light, and with a sly, hesitant smile

A wave of his arms,
in everything from common time,
to 11/8,
he drew me in
with a magic invisible
only audible
in the sound of a clear,
bell-like tone
he drew from my chest
the expansion of my lungs
the roughness of my speech
into the clarity of soprano polyphony

But every magician has his tricks

and the best of the best
will deceive your very soul
into thinking there is something
where nothing
is nothing.

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