circus pony

I sleep with
your handwriting
beside the bed
penciled loops,
delicate scrawls-
pretending
they make up
a love-note
left
for my morning eyes
but I'm always
blindfolded
into seeing
how that's impossible,
like me leaving
to join the circus
and ride
two white horses,
one foot on each.
balanced in layers
of satin & tulle,
my fantasies
would perform
a dog & pony show,
knife-throwing,
sword-swallowing,
and we would
trapeze,
only to fall.