He escaped from the circus,
shark-eyed, white-gloved.
His nose redder than Eve's Apple,
his face whiter than the white of Death.
He came up to me, a mute mime,
hands warm, fingers tingling. So
close I could see the crook of his teeth
and the dark smudges of his powder mask,
through to his skin, damp with sweat,
hot with flurry. He was smirking at
me, eyes burning; flames that silenced
me, that enveloped me in pleasant heat.
Closer still, his warmth illicitly
entering my soul, my heart singing
intricate bird songs, his stiff lashes
licking my wet cheek softly, like fire.
A mad clown, dangerously close,
reaching slowly for me. A flicker of fear.
After, a cloud of bliss passing through us,
and then, utter, utter emancipation.
Ballerina With Fins
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-clown-s-kiss/
