The wonder that is you,

Resurfaces.

It is a wonder to me.

I, who was never elegant,

Never swan like – like you,

Who swim still in the rivers of my head,

Silently, soundlessly

Through the waters of turbulence of my own making.

Yet make not a sound.

Magic. You are like what magic is to me.

An illusion made beautifully unreal.

Just like that.