image/webp | Aug 31, 2024 at 5:29 PM | 11 edition(s)

I’ve been thinking of specters of late, their presence in our lives, what are they here for? What do they want? Or are they really just a fragment of us? There is no magic any more, That time is done, What was concealed is a wide open door, You see the doves fly, their wings cover all the sun, For when they flap again I’ll see your shining face revealed, And what it was all for, There is no magic anymore, You’ve seen it all before, Read it in books, Watched the shows, Seen the unimpressed looks, They clap obediently at celebrities, Because everyone else is taken, Their half sunken eyes wanting something more, More than makeup and shadows, There is no magic anymore, The ringmaster is a bore, He unravels the same fate, From the games he played before, Put him too the task, Ask questions not of the future but of the past, For he has no North Star. I learned my tricks from the devil himself, Wore his cards on my sleeve, My heart in my vest pocket, And you think you’ve seen them all, But you haven’t seen this one yet. Who is the magician? And who is the mark? We watch in wonder, At who was from the start, A big surprise on the table, Not a snake bite to predict, Not a chess piece too soon, Now listen to this fable, Because you haven’t seen this trick before. A cinematic poetry collaboration between NurArt and Laurence Fuller. Visuals by @NurArt_ Poetry by @laurencefuller