Archive | 1:09 am

Bugbears of the Heart

5 Oct

And that there is the

trapeze woman,

hurtling toward faux destiny;

Fault lines perched upon her lashes

downcast and flattened genetically.

An arm and she is swung,

the other grasping sheer veils

that reveal cruelly, vindictively, the

horrors of her future.

The past, it will not have her,

the present populated with too many

red couches;

Would you live in a moment you had to

share with crimson suede?

Mid-air tastes salty-sweet, it

crumbles around the edges

and when she streams down they

gasp

Oh look! No

safety

net.

Her smile is upside down, and wide,

the skull late autumn’s bloom,

A lifetime of couches is

supplied,

painted a bloody

red.

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