amateur act

Even if you think

you wouldn't have asked
if you'd thought it through
just a little more first,

I am glad you didn't and did.

You give me so much chance
to consider for better and worse,
and to pick through better
towards best.

Whatever your questions,
let them come. It always reflects
so well on me, when I stare down your gun.

Like a limelit magician of bygone age,
awaiting the crack and the flash
as we both prepare

for the bullet catch. Indecision
is only a stage.

So take just one -
one very deep breath, between
us two. I wouldn't be standing here,

if I didn't trust your aim.

And you wouldn't pull if you didn't believe
it was all in hand. Well, just between us,

I always believe
we can make all the mysteries plain -
and people will think
it was always planned, and you
were a plant.

Or maybe I was? Either way, some risk
of pain. So who

is magician's assistant, here? Are you
aiming guns, or am I throwing knives?
Which one of us, trapped, is tied
to the wheel, or shut in the box?

And what's with the saw I saw you hide?
Behind your back - or else up my sleeve,

It's a little unclear who's assisting who,
but our outfits are clearly equally cute,

and it hardly matters what props we use.
Each gay misdirection points straight
to another truth,

as another clean sleight of hand
produces its proof, suitable to belief.
Not too far beyond what the casual mob
could understand,

with a bit of a reach.