he says things that are spiritual in nature like,
"she looked into me, saw me, i know she did."
But these things, said too often, lose magic.
I am no magician.
But I've experienced some:
pulling into driveways as the song slowly fades, a seamless weave of time and tune.
A winter's day that hints at June.
Who's to say whether or not the rain will come?
I am no weatherman.
But I've sensed the coming downpour, seconds before it breaks the clouds and I've thought snow ahead of the falling flake.
Do I believe in coincidence?
Must there be a reason for the seasons, and
who can explain why we yearn to run barefoot in the warm summer rain?
or why we're tempted to walk in the tracks of a train?
I am no conductor.
But I've driven myself mad with regret, only to forget that
"i looked into you, saw you, i know i did."
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