I believe in magic.

There's romance in every ounce of life. Even the darkest parts are romanticized with magic. You can see it, can't you? You can feel it, I know because of the distance in you when you look across the water. Wolf spiders dart over and through the streambed stones. The water is green, mauve, peach, and silver. It's anything but blue. It's a gray day but everyone's smiling. That's because they know about magic; the way spring brings warm smells reminiscent of fall. It's how you look when you loop a thumb through a belt loop in your jeans. It's how I feel the texture of your laughter in a memory.





It's the raw fact that I love you. I believe in magic because the oak tree looked straight through me and spoke through the bowels of his roots to say in a brittle tone, 'You belong.'