Trapeze

Long pale hand over hand
on thin rungs, the metal bones
comfort me, heavenly
warm as I ascend.

Ballet feet grip to push, higher
towards the dark air of my swim,
the pool of night gasps and
feathered pretend.

Safe in my solitude, beloved
from the distance of hell
below, it is the ground
that terrifies me.

It is the bone whip memory
of his hand in casual dance
that I feel on my smooth back
as I dive through my sea

of escape.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.