in perpetual twilight
slow as dream time
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
rings made from rainfall
how the wind
hisses a sigh
through the reeds
how the sea sings
far inland
caves will call
to the sky
sky will become
ceiling
you’re the barn owl
born from the ground bones of a bonfire
in the font turned firepit
at the heart of my crumbled cathedral
all my taps are dripping
the sun froths and flares
the susurrus
of your lost
long song
the smoke
of my soul
fairy lights flickered
when no one was watching
woodsmoke curled to sleep
in the grass
curtains wait for a breeze
so they can breathe again
light a candle
with me
all night
we’ll watch
the lowering
of the flag
of its flame
sparrows dream songs
within the walls
beneath summer sun
share the shadow
of a brolly with you
within its soft circle
we’ll listen to the rain
in each other
I’ve been out watching moths
wings made from buddleia petals
brains the ghosts of embers
edges still lit
threads a fuse