Cirque De Moi Poem by Lea Kardov

3 am.
There is a Ventriloquist in my cherry glass.
Pulling out a puppet.
We created it of silk and shivers.
She was born in sleepless waters.
I had no chance to fall asleep at all.
An empty table conversation is where we meet again.

Some fine china applauds.
He lays glass strings around my spine.
Want me to join the puppet?
Dance to the divine.
One move forward.
Jump head first from the rim.
Angels are watching from the basement.

4 am.
An old clown jumped into our glass.
Fading makeup on his forehead.
Offer wrinkles to look through.
He joined our pity party.
What type of party consists of two?

Juggling through.
He makes some fun and ignores that I have Coulrophobia.
Securely I have lost my mind.

5 am.
The tightrope dancers are falling from the ceiling.
My cherry is getting warm.
Eyes heavier than before.
Ready for the showdown.
Finally, my circus is complete.