Repeatedly I told myself; This lady stole her gypsy magic from somewhere..
..not that I believed in it, not that I would ever...not that I could tell..
l et 's p la y wi t h t h e l a dy t ha t g ive s m e c a r ds th rough h er hea d..

"The ideas of past is representative of mine as of elsewhere..
...how do you know this?" and she'd tap at her cards, asking me
"Do you believe in magic?"
"Well, metaphorically speaking there is chemistry...and that which is unknown
we wonder like apes.."
"And love is...infinity as well"
...
Her answer bestrewed me
long enough to keep the silence following after..
She blew out the candles and kept smiling towards me..
her entire being content with disposition, like her soul
reached out to hold mine, her hands fortunate to ask me..
"Do you feel it?"
To which my reply "well..
As if and never.."

Great (Y)

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The lady in the poem resembles to whom?
Is it a game, device or any non-living thing as the poem states "lets play"?