The world is dancing
to the lawless music playing through leaf stalks
with amber wine in our tall glasses
from which I could taste the blood
of the crushed dry earth
pouring out and running down our adorned fingers.
I can see glimpses of faces
from within the cracks of our masquerade masks
the tattoos of dry tunnels of the deep dug rivers.
The mercury dust is streaking down our strained necks
and the glittering garments we are wearing
are clinging to our hot skins with films of sweat
drenching us with a sweet burden.
The feathers are coming off our sequined disguises
making us sneeze and cough
faltering our steps
lost in the haze of smoke
rising beneath our feet
and we think it is the mist carrying us.
And yet here we are spinning the globe
between our strapped heels
unaware of the embers within ashen depths
and we are still unaware.
©Malintha Perera 2014