Illusionist

You can pull me out of a hat,
hide me up your sleeve,
saw me in half as the audience gasps,
or turn me into a bouquet of flowers
clamped between the teeth of the Bengal tiger
you've just created with a tap of your wand.

You can levitate me into the darkness
of the rafters and make me vanish
in a cone of smoke before their astonished eyes
and then bring me back with a shake of your cloak
and sink knives into the spinning cork board
you've lashed me to while parents look on
in horror and cover their children's innocent eyes.

But after the show, remember,
I will grab your hand in mine,
and we'll disappear into the night
like one of your magic tricks
and that this will be no illusion.