Shadow Play

pain is like beauty  with the self as the aim
the wall is an arena for a walking cat
and the dance  is third-person kitschy red & green
backstage a hand throws down the setting sun  between the shadows
organs in love  hold the bat-squeaks tight
breaking up  dusk dances on the fleshy mat of a palm
in the cat’s eye each instant is leaping
skin  bearing the weight of the cut-out hometown

captured in the tattoo’s bud
a role is endlessly skinned into theatre
lamplight skinning the gloaming  catching reality turn itself half over
shadows raggedly wear personalities
laugh the laugh sewn together daily  backstage
the murderous hand responds  under the cat’s claw
all setting suns lapping their own bloodlessness
supporting each other into the blackness of applause, asleep cuddling gifts