The Sun's Cycle

Dance around a sky of hazy, milk-white forgottens;
and bark laughter towards the ground.

Perhaps we'll forget the blood red of your eyes
once the black of your lips regresses into that perfect disinterest you've cultivated....

Silently ascend into Hell
(for truly you are lower than we can imagine)
and cry out to the layers of fire to save your from your icy tomb

Add fire to your being,
and when day arrives again:
act as if you've lost nothing.
Smile once again at the perfect continuum that prevails against all seeming-odds,

and send your poetic laughter to the waiting stars.