Magic

I have always sought out magic in places.
A garden in my neighborhood,
Decorated with crystal balls
Wind chimes
And gnomes.
A small cave
Made of boulders
And moss
And grass
In a midwestern park.
An abandoned tabernacle
In a camp ground.
Fairy circles
In apartment complexes
And
Islands in lakes.
I have always sought out magic in words.
Putting together the perfect sentence, paragraph, story, poem,
Full of adjectives and Similes and metaphors.
The placement of punctuation,
And the voice the reader hears in their head.
To present a vision that manifests in their minds
And stays with them.
I have always sought out magic in people.
The way their heads tilt
When in full blown conversation,
The fire in their eyes
The stolen glances across coffee shops.
The cigarette that hangs from a mouth but never gets smoke in the eyes.
The gestures,
Weaving in and out between spoken words
To paint pictures out of thin air.
I know magic in places. In people. In words.
I'll tell you a secret, though.
The most magical place
In the world is in your heart.
The most magical words are simply, I love you,
And the most magical person,
Is you.

Oceans.

I'm sorry I loved you
The way I did.
See,
You seek to blame yourself for not loving me
The way I loved you.
Truth is,
It never phased me.
I knew you didn't have the capability
The culpability,
To love
How I do.
I told you
As much
On that long drive
To a city built
Into a cliff side
But you
Couldn't understand
Because you were drowning
In your
Own ocean.
That same ocean
Is how I love you.
And I refuse to let you
Be pulled out into a riptide
Or let
Any hurricane blow though
What I feel.
What I felt.
Because you
Were the moon
That influenced
My waves
To crash into shore.
Until you were eclipsed
By the sun
That was the center
Of your disaster.
But the ocean
Never forgets
Her moon.
Her stars.
Her beaches.
Her reefs.
Just as I will never forget you.