#limina

limina

the last quiver of dusk or the first sigh of dawn your eyes on me from across the room a trick of the light

the pull when it’s right the nudge when it’s not a slight of hand

the way the sun or a good lover’s touch warms the thighs a false kind of gentle

sometimes the tongue slips, no, presses on syllables like how you said I want you, when I was dying to hear I want you

we have reached the tipping point from ache to break

all this time, my heart we’ve been fumbling for the space between lightning and thunder

as if they’re not one in the same

don’t look.

“Lights out! Time for grub.” 

A collective sigh of relief came out of the performers, who scattered like isopods under a lifted rock after the call. The beastmaster locked up the performance lusii, the strongtroll put back her weights and the various lowbloods and mutants that manned the theatricals pulled down the floodlights to turn them off. Overall, a strong performance, even though it was just rehearsals. 

Everyone retired to their blocks in the back of the colorful tent, including the Ringleader, who had a long day of directing the show and “correcting” eventual steppings out of line. Retiring in her luxurious chamber, she lit her hookah with a match, and took a quick puff, kicking her legs up and turning her machine on, to have a quick read at the news on the Imperium’s side, and organize the finances of the Cirque.

Wonder when something interesting’s going to happen...

ι ƈαɳ ɳҽʋҽɾ ɾҽɱҽɱႦҽɾ

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