circus

you are an oak tree one hundred years old

and I am the circus five hundred years old

but all my acts are untied shoes

I fall all over you trying to pull the right words

from my mouth like silk scarves

look here you can feel my heartbeat through all my fingertips

what a cool trick

please

keep watching

what’s next

but your eyes are on her

I am all bearded ladies and trampolines

and she must be cool as water

calm as glass

I come into town with big tents and loud music

and

she lies down in your lap