What if my heart was a circus? Would you love my harlequin dancing girls and fear the lions?
My high wire act will astound and terrify you.
I’d like to keep it smaller. A story from the pages of my soul. Hide with me under our home made tent of blankets and chairs in this fortress built of pillows. It is as impenetrable as brick, fortified with our love and imagination. I can fill this space. My light dances with the shadows on the walls and tells tales of elephants and juggling bears, women, gypsies and Jesus.
If my heart is a circus, I’ll be a painted lady and you can be the strongest man. We’ll overthrow the ringmaster, set free the birds, and grab the gold. Steal away with giggles on the back of an old Indian. Motorcycle, that is.
What if my heart was a circus? Would you love me more when I left? You would know with certainty that you are carried along. When I’m through on the trapeze and tired of my death defying acts, I wish you to make me a cup of tea. Sit with me as the sun goes down, and hold my hand while we revel in the glory days.