Showtime

I look at you like you are magic.

Your eye lashes are fog machines concealing your glassy illusions.

Your lips are curtains, pulling back and never disappointing.

Your hands are doves, fluttering in braille.

A magician never reveals his secret,

but please tell me yours.

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Show me the beautiful, beautiful. Show me the heat.

Show me the stage lights and the flames.

Show me the dark, show me the scary.

Show me what’s hidden in the cage.

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My eyes are trained on you. You have my full attention. Show me.