revolutions on the dance floor

just when I’ve
finally let a gasp of air
escape, the claws of
your soul
scratched me with a smile
buried within acid
marching men
my heart is filled with
curved corners
retching in
delight, and miserably
blinking over my
confirmation candle
a swerving getaway that led
to the confinement of that air,
that whisp of wind and air
now enclosed and remembering
the faint essence
your weakling smile
that melts me
my downfall
like a moth that burns
over a heinous flame

(c) Caitlin C.