[re-centred text]

Flames dance like red leaves in the autumn breeze:
Wax images, fixated: memorised by fire '
As static and rigid as china doll's bodies.
Large staring eyes: staring like corpses.

I am lost, lost in the robes of this light '
Unable to draw away my gaze,
Like a car crash on the motorway ' each
Casualty an entertainer, for a passing audience.

Woollen gloves grip fiery sticks
Tracing patterns in the air,
Leaving smoky trails, streaking the sky '
Until they blow the sparklers out.

Full of starch, I climb into a bed of fire:
My canvas body absorbs the flames.
Brightness ascends my thighs, as my face is
Scorched black: I am a dartboard for witches.

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...