I Stand Here Waiting. To Disappear Or

The Circus Tent Was Flowing Pale In The Rain Like A Fleshy Flower Lit From Within. It Seemed To Bloom In The Downpour. Drops Of Rain Caught On Rafe's Eyelashes, Blinding Him As The Circus Light Struck Them. He Groped For The Flap, That Slit In The Fabric That Would Reveal Her To Him. She Was On The Rope Again, Her Skirt Flashing With Tiny Mirrors, Hair Braided With Petals. He Looked Up At Her, Dizzy With It, Seeing Her Face Framed In The Parasol. There Were Bluish Shadows Around Her Eyes.

War Is Being Reminded That You Are Completely At The Mercy Of Death At Every Moment, Without The Illusion That You Are Not. Without The Distractions That Make Life Worth Living.

You Turned Your Head To Look At Me. Your Eyes Looked So Big In Your Face, So Mysterious — Wide And Flickering Like A Butterfly-wing Mask. When You Saw Me The Wails Turned To Sobs, And Then Just Quieter Heaves Of Your Body. I Held Out My Finger Through The Bars. Then You Reached Out And Curled Your Fingers Around Mine, So Tight. I Knew You Recognized Me. That Was The First Time I Knew I Had A Heart Inside My Body.

I'd Sit Around Dreaming That The Boys I Saw At Shows Or At Work - The Boys With Silver Earrings And Big Boots - Would Tell Me I Was Beautiful, Take Me Home And Feed Me Thai Food Or Omelets And Undress Me And Make Love To Me All Night With The Palm Trees Whispering Windsongs About A Tortured Gleaming City And The Moonlight Like Flame Melting Our Candle Bodies.

She Wished She Had A Little Yellow House Of Her Own, With A Flower Box Full Of Real Flowers And Herbs – Pansies And Rosemary – And A Sweet Lover Who Would Swing Dance With Her In The Evenings And Cook Pasta And Read Poetry Aloud.