Confessions of a Trapeze Artist
I don’t want my feet to touch the ground as I soar effortlessly above the anxious crowds. I am the world’s greatest trapeze artist performing unimaginable acrobatic feats of daring and intrigue. Gasps of death defying artistry are caught in the throats of the stunned masses always demanding another backwards flip. Secretly they hope for a midair collision as I attempt the impossible act of trying to catch a falling angel, not allowing her to slip from my grasp at the last second.
My fingers clutch at the fleeting air as it moves towards us, snaring her arched body in one breathless motion, and then a quick release to a twisting, turning backwards flip, as if she was never in my arms. The screams of the unbelieving throng still demand another sensational acrobatic thrill, wanting to get their monies worth. They know they will never again see an angel without wings soar unaffected by the laws of gravity.
She is an angel soaring with exquisite gracefulness but the crowd clamors for the inevitable slip from my fingers, as she becomes a blurry image descending from the heavens, the ground rising up as she crashes back to earth. She is an angel without wings plummeting from my arms without a net to catch her; perhaps it was inevitable since love is never perfect.
|