Escape

My tiny eye sliced by bedroom moonlight
afraid beneath folds of crimson warmth
please, let me escape to the circus
beyond the glass, along narrow paths,
between cold houses, towering black.

Let me find a touchstone of comfort,
a band of lost souls like I,
a cavalcade of travellers
set to explore joy in every way,
free as screaming swifts,
as river-run dormice, exploding crows.

Let the ice outside crackle away
into dusted memories, like the glitter
on fan-dancer's eyelids
under hot cones of lovelight.

Let exotic animals sound Alpenhorns, warm
over mountain cities, along hillsides
cragged with cowering infants like I,
frightened,
alone, fizzed
by the fireworks in the hallway,
the slams of fire and flash
set out tonight
for undelight
and nightmares.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.