explode and fade
Silver sparks flash against black
from that rhinestone belt slack around Nuit’s hips.
Dances enchant, warp sensation, dissipate flesh, resurrect spirits.
I prefer to be the dancer as opposed to the spectator.
But here I am,
Here are we all,
only able to look up to the Unknown,
necks strained, throats exposed, eyes rolled back…
waiting for the transitory awe, joy and electricity
in those short bursts of fire in the sky.
And as quickly as they come,
the color fades into smoke skeletons
hanging in the air far longer than the duration of their life.
We watch the air molecules carry those ghosts,
anticipating the next dazzling, fiery release.
Humans and explosives: simpatico
By the end of the affair, Nuit is smoking.
We return our eyes to our terrain,
and our feet take us Home.