shrink wrapped

A riddle’s just a ticket to a dreamer.
The excuse to wander, in prayer and song
He sits in the bin. 
By his own volition?
Who’s to say, 
Convinced the glimmering city lights are so much more 

I am the gem of the Bolshoi Ballet. They do not understand this. I am the serpentine woman, ever growing, ever adapting. I lurk in the back. But I notice the eyes on me. Tracking, waiting. Every move is mine.

She takes her place atop the mountain
White goo trickles from her mouth. 
Trumpets hail her arrival- entourage shall be here soon.
She must wipe away her shame.
 
The dancing clown, in leaps and bounds.

It is hard to love someone who’s drowning.
In and out of the murky waters. 
When she bobs to the surface, the light in her smile dazzles me.
Every word she says brings a new conviction. 
And when she sinks again, 

Every space has been lived in at some point or another, I think.
Look closely at your feet as you make your way down the road.
The hands of former travellers grasping desperately for your shadow
Embrace them.

that look will stay with me.
through the train window i was searching aimlessly for meaning,
when i finally reached her.
 a tall body obscured my view, 
the frustration built. 
 and then she smiled.