A limbless acrobat arching
its handle spine
on the hard wood of the table,
bowing perfectly from the
base of
a delicate neck to the tailbone.
Curved like a body
yearning for another to hold,
just two ribcages apart,
the metal muscles frozen
tense and waiting.
An oblong face like a
basin mirror
distorting upside down
reflections
and pulling them inward
into still life.
A handheld funhouse mirror.
A little dipper that in a
child’s hand
will fling alphabet soup
like stars
into constellations on the
ceiling sky.
