Sometimes it all swirls about, a maddening pot.

The too nervous, panicked, and overwhelmed, toss the boiling brew over, putting out the fire in a flash of drama, and then the thing is gone and the kitchen, bedroom, littered streets are dark; not even a remaining glow in the eyes.

But! ┬áBut if you stay with the beast, letting her simmer – simmer!?
Letting her turbulent roll and spit!
Let the thing dirvish and seize!
But you, yes you, keep calm.
Maybe only with a hinting smile that some might mistake as devilish,
though you are quite certain that it is “only” sincere tickling;
and the rolling, turning, bubbling, maddening, is a pot in your own belly,
it makes you all these things,
with your hinting, devilish smile, it slowly becomes
the fodder,
by “old” man alchemy (which is always a work of the heart)
the magic you have said you want to believe.