smoke splices its tongue
more surface area
to taste the dark
rings made from rainfall
your songs shriveling
to scent
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
beneath summer sun
share the shadow
of a brolly with you
within its soft circle
we’ll listen to the rain
in each other
you are the stained light
staining the stone
the church ceiling
crumbled into cabbage whites
shadows shattered
into black butterflies
the hinges of your heart
sprinkles rust like pollen
as the dark wind of your blood
squeezes through its doors
left ajar
caves will call
to the sky
sky will become
ceiling
just before the kiss
push me back into the world
like ghosts do
when the living get too close
the scent of skin
too much
they push away
because they long too much
for what they’ve lost
they want you too stay
in the world
you because
you don’t want to hold
what will be lost
you’re the green fronds of fire
that grouts the cobbled back streets of my heart
the bright butterflies still being born
from the braided shadows of brambles
blossom become sentient
is love
the performers
performing for themselves
a slow show
once the wings
of the main show
packed away
instruments played gentle
as injuries
my heart
more cave and cavity now
waiting for the collapse
I wonder if the candle
is sucking smoke
back into its body
I won’t speak to you again
I will still sing to you
songs white as whispers
same frequency as ghosts