The Dance

Real? Fantasy?

What do you see, tell me.

Faster, faster, like a roller coaster racing through the sunny skies

And then slowly.

You don't want everything to burst into flames -

Magnificent, but leaving empty smoke,

Like the poof of a Magician's rabbit

Beautiful, fleeting fireworks on New Year's

Smoke beside rushing water

Clinking of bottles, chatters

So you let it burn, slowly,

Rapt and attentive to the ache in your heart,

Let the anxiety eat and reduce it into charred cinders

Mood swings

Children on a summer's day, chains clinking. Shouts;

Pendulum in the rusty old grandfather's clock;

Newton's cradle - shivering, vibrating its course

Your entire being


Every beep, every split second hesitation

Every silly little smiley

Whacked. Hormones. Stupid.

But you can't deny

Deep down you care, you yearn, even as you hope, you dread, for the moment when the illusion shatters and you're left with smoke and mirrors

Or hit so hard with exhilaration -

Flying up, up and away

It's only after the dance is over

Royal red curtains drawn