Do you believe in Magic?
The magic of touch, the feel of rain. The cool water running down your skin, making you want to dance and sing. That’s what you always did too. When the thunder started, you were outside, your dresses swirling out around you as you spun and spun, water whirling off and feeling everywhere, hair whipping around in circles.
Do you believe in Magic?
The magic of smell, the scent of the earth. The grass underneath our backs, as we lay side by side underneath the summer night sky. The night blooming flowers, filling the air with perfume as we ran outside, the stars lighting the fields, as we shared secrets and memories, barefoot and free.
Do you believe in Magic?
The magic of sight, the brightness of the stars. Your pale hand, pulling me outside after midnight and pointing out the brightest stars you could find. Your shining eyes, always on the world around us as I watched you. You were fascinated by a blade of grass, a single butterfly, the smallest pinprick of light in the distance, whatever you could see. We chased your fireflies for hours.
Do you believe in Magic?
The magic of hearing, the buzzing of cicadas. Your eyes shut, listening with a small smile on your lips. You could hear the bugs in the air, the shouts of distant people, and there was always something else. You had me close my eyes and put one hand on my heart, and one on yours. And you asked if I could hear it. All I ever heard was your voice.
Do you believe in Magic?
The magic of taste, your mouth on mine. The taste of your lips, for a split second. The taste of morning dewdrops as you pulled me out to see the sunrise. The taste of honeysuckle plants, sweet and fresh. The taste of grass blades as I tried to make them whistle to make you smile again.
Do you believe in Magic?
The magic of love. The magic of summer. The magic of fleeting romance, and forever friendships. The magic of our hearts beating together. And the magic of not ever saying goodbye.