you’re the moth-eaten moths of memory
the torn tapestry of my life
its seams of moonlight
scars become skin
storm in the earth
night bright
with the peeled back
bellies of leaves
begging for the blade
curtains need the breeze
to touch the room
a little more
in perpetual twilight
slow as dream time
silver poplars shiver
with the echo of light
wind gathers in the trees
the cry of church bells
across the city
serpents of scent
wrapped round your wrists
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
leaves become
same colour
as the fire
that made them fall
the ones
who hollow you out
leave a cave
for another
to place
a candle in
where you try to excavate
your encrypted heart
I wanted to touch the scars
upon your clawed at chest
I write to you
to keep you near me
we breathe in
the dark of each other
miss the sea glass
crumbling sunlight
in your eyes
knowing fire
through the smoke
of your songs
the tantrums
of your tenderness
how your steps
slowed
to match mine
sparrows dream songs
within the walls