Anna, As I Resign

I want to tell you how Anna does magic.
It isn't couth, I know, to reveal these things,
But I feel I must speak in my own defense.
The magic is that her hazel eyes do exactly
What they promise. True, there is smoke
And a whirl of black crinoline, which
Under normal circumstances would lead
One to believe some legerdemain has

Occurred. But it hasn't. These are the trappings
Of Anna's overflow, the lagniappe.
The magic is in her joyful elocution, in her
Determined hollandaise, in her Northeastern
Nonchalance. If you weren't paying attention,
You might not even know or mind
That you had been ensorcelled.
After spoons and spoons of enchantment,
I realized that Anna's magic is exactly
What it claims to be, and the only illusion is this:
That I could ever
Love her
Enough.