The Turbulent Love Lives of Trapeze Artists

It's hard to ever
Completely overcome
The fear of falling.

In truth, there are
No nets.
Never, not really...
Nothing to catch you,
When you
(inevitably)
fall.

She knows that.
She's had practice.

The pull is gravity, and weightless air.

It's enough
To lift the spirit,
Turn it inside out
And upside-down.

Gravity. Attraction.

So how does she do this?
In the beginning,
How did she manage
To capture the attention of a lover
Possessed with the body of a god,
And shimmering with sequins
In that golden spotlight?

And how,
How, did that lover
Meet her
Right there, in
Mid-air?
Orbiting the earth together?
Hovering in tandem,
A tangle of angels,
Clasping wrists so suddenly?

The sound of the calliope
Twenty miles below
Bellowing a steamy fanfare
Of love and lust and acrobatics
And the threat
Of chaos momentarily
resolved.

Not once.
But over and over.
Over and under.
Round and round,
Again and again.

Rare is the body who
Can pull off this challenging stunt
And leave the crowd stunned.
Breathless.

But not as stunned as when
She
(eventually)
(inevitably)
(finally)
falls.