Smoke and Mirrors

Smoke and mirrors
Tools to break reality
Capture it within the angles
Bend it, twisting through the coils
Make something be not there that was
Or something be there that wasn’t.

Bright coins finger slick
Vanish into the creases
Doves become paper roses
These become purple gold flame
A sharp gasp then applause
A fistful of glitter fills eyes with wonder.

But if the tricks weren’t trickery?
If the illusion was real
The magician truly did pull
The rabbit through space and time
From a wormhole in his top hat
Or had the whole pale moon
Tucked under the tails of his topcoat?

Who would applaud then?
Whisper “how did he do that?!?!”
Brains amused with the looking for a secret
The trap doors, the hinges, the wires
Leaking from gloved fingertips
Would all the sharp patter in the world
Retain any awe if we knew
That it really was all done with magic
Rather than with smoke and mirrors?


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