curtains wait for a breeze
so they can breathe again
your flame throws bird shadows
over the walls of my heart
that have never known sky
lamps wore away
at the dark
there is another show
long after
the main event
the cacophony of clowns
become stroked cymbals
the trapeze artist
tiptoes over the camber
of the milky way
suspended in a puddle
the human cannonball
curls like a cat into its crater
dreams of petri dishes
blooming with flowers
the sword swallower
lets the hilt lay in their hand
for a little while
before laying the blade
amongst the blades of grass
starlight soaks into the steel
the juggler
stands the pins before the fire
their faceless faces watch
the feathers of flames
smudges tears over shy smiles
the contortionist
hugs their knees
unwinds a story into the pool
of their shadow
the fire breather
feels the smoke
feeling its way
through the dark of their body
fingers soft as silk
in the morning
just the footprint of the fire
where god
stubbed out their cigar
or
where an elephant
bruised the earth
balancing upon one foot
its trunk
held onto air
the ghost of fireflies
froth from the fractured minds
of the thistles
the burning breeze
flakes the fields
I wonder if the candle
is sucking smoke
back into its body
a tree shakes off
a torrent of rain
dipped its head
in the sky
I write to you
to keep you near me
a candle burned
flame sunk
into the column
of its body
tears viscous
with lives lost
cum cloudy
with ghosts
of lives
never lived
my hand a sparrow
dreaming in the bowl
of your palm
share the snowfall
from a streetlight with you
shoulders dusted with shine
watched the wind
read the fields
each blade of grass
a word
I don’t think about the thorns
I think about the blackberries
of your love
how they reveal the labyrinths
of my fingerprints
that touches the dark
trying to find your face
in another field
skylarks sleep
wings taking root
in the earth