I met a Carnival Arsonist
burlap sack around her
fiery heart, force taught
to start fires
bright, to distract her from stars.

Always sat in her ashes
Marlboro hacked up her passion
until the ferris wheel called her
to get a glimpse at her burns.

Each night it's siren syringes
hallucinations injected noises
bending over foreclosure
turning up folders
found an old phone her
Owner planted to spy.

He popped her first red balloon
kept the dart pressed in her side.

Manic Panic won't let her dye.
Her highlights don't hide her lies.
"I'm Fine" always "I'm Fine".

Built thick walls of timber
to guard to try Tinder.
Tender to two tired hearts
begged strangers to beat her

"Play a game, win a prize
Play a game, win a prize"

Poured gasoline on the
carnival, watched it
burn from inside.

Every night I lay into a pink sleep, which is the secrecy of her arm’s love for me. There is a solace for me in her eyes… if only I could live in their reflections forever! A landscape of exploding glass-works, that trickle wet stories down her beloved face. Into my dreams, they will fire an inscription of dazzling intimacies, in soft-blue storms of light. I want to run away with her down private roads, that glisten with the unrest of heartbeats.

They had *** everywhere.

In the car,
Parked at Costco,
She teased him,
Bra-less under an unbuttoned shirt,
Her agile hand coated with a thin primer of Vaseline,
She stroked him slowly, precisely with a twist,
As somnolent sad faced suburban Sherpa,
Their neighbours and fellow citizens,
Hauled their apocalypse supplies  
Across pristine acres of fresh asphalt,
Doped by fear,
Trapped inside the pixels of an infinite routine,
Unaware and
Unable to imagine life as a movie.

Out on the highway, as he drove,
She pulled up her skirt
And pulled down her tube top
Trucker’s horns roared their musical approval,
The benefits of a long haul driver were scant and skimpy,
Her ***** alive and anonymous,
Guilt free and aroused.

They ****** in washrooms,
Molested each other on escalators,
Texted friends while they copulated half clothed,
Shared their pride with angels dressed as ******,
And counted their ******* like winnings at a casino,
Excited by the number and the game,
Their brains hot-wired,
Life a blur of alternating currents of sensation.

Death is constant state of ******, he told her,
When we leave this organic realm,
When we have finally turned the oceans into pudding,
And caged all of life,
When it is over,
We will enter into a cosmic stream of pleasure.
This is why the universe is expanding, he told her,
Pleasure is a colossal force,
The big bang was God’s ****** after all,
Her consequence the stars, the galaxies,
The dark palette of her entropy.

He was ******* her on a balcony while watching the moon
And waving to the woman with binoculars
When she asked,
Why is it so difficult,
Why do so many ignite pain and cant despair,
How did the curl and cling of hate
Take such deep root, she asked.

We fear death too well, he said,
And
Within the quick boundary of this moment
As they searched their waft and scent for clues,
They heard a whisper.
Inside the swell,
On top of a crest of acid clear thought
And without regret,
They forgave destiny,
Only to fly to the ground and beyond.

She lays quietly at my side,
sleepy with dreams of happiness,
hopefully of me and our life.

Gently I lean close, inhaling her scent,
butterfly kisses of love to her cheek,
dreaming away as she continues her sleep.

Now I search for my sleep each night,
looking to find her in my dreams,
together in happiness as we sleep.