Bubble Burster
29th July 2008
I am a bubble burster,
my finger pointed into you.
Quiet talk of you and others,
pushes you from who to whom.
I grasp your tail with white fists
and snap it out into a thread
grown fainter, longer. Weak.
You, a dry and whetted wick,
fuel evaporated in radiant smiles,
rest, cupped by my soft hand.
Held upright with a kind word
I restore your normal body
with the magic of faint praise.
I am bigger, deeper. Strong.
Yet, stood; alone, tuneless
fluorescent lights cast me down.
I shrink into a hollow star,
my five shadows crouching,
each devouring its share.
Their backs turned to me
grown fainter, longer. Weak.