Magic is the unseen.
Magic is Schrodinger's cat.
(or us from the point of view of the cat.)
Magic is the tree in the forest
felled out of earshot.
Magic is the face that everyone makes
when you're not looking.
Magic is peripheral evolution;
the way water boils faster
under the patience of a turned back.
Magic is where the colors go when the sun goes down.
If science is observation,
and art is application,
than magic is both neither and both,
and neither both nor neither.
Magic is the "I don't know."
when someone asks who you are
and all you can think of is your name.
In this way, magic is in everything,
and in some way
we are pieces of everything.
Don't remember to forget,
and next time someone inquires to your identity,
know that any answer you can give is correct
because you can give it.

Or not.