The Acrobat

She climbs and falls, quiet as the night.
Nimble, light as a serpent sigh.
We cry at such a sight.

          Purple spider painted in silver stockings wrapped tight
          In ruby ribbon splashed across her thigh,
          She climbs and falls, quiet as the
night.

Honeycombed in sequins and spotlight,
Trapped in her silk visage as a feeble fly,
We cry at such a sight.

          Lace dancing behind her like tail of a kite
          In the mock fiber optic sky.
          She climbs and falls, quiet as the
night.

No thread entwined hand to catch her headfirst flight.
Just below her waltz, death waits nigh.
We cry at such a sight.

          Sweaty hands slip, and our lips we bite.
          Her embrace is quick, instant as the dew in my eye.
                       She climbs and falls, quiet as the night,
                       And we cry at such a sight.