Candy Floss

all that weight of the universe
(not the universe itself, but you know that)
spinning on the axis of my denial,
sluggish now, overlapping days and nights,
heat and cold,
so much that this could just be last autumn or next;
I have asked, again, pleaded almost,
someone must be in charge,
who can reduce this unworldly heft,
offload those inflated dreams and hopes,
those unspoken mountains of love and guilt,
drain the seas that separate the shores
staring despondent into the expanding distance;
bury the burden of every human soul
in a landfill far away,
in a parallel emptiness,
so all that’s left is a feathery light,
(not light itself, but you know that)
circling a contradiction,
gossamer filaments,
pink like the sun-kissed eyes of dawn,
swirling faster,
faster,
sweet like cotton candy,
sticking to my fingers, cheeks, your lips,
even denial smiling in the mirror,
a ludicrous rosebud mouth;
what do we say now,
the words we denied,
the feelings we denied,
now somewhere at the bottom of a cosmic heap,
just us and this nothing,
lighting up the night sky
in diaphanous pink,
sky-less chiffon kites,
strings tangled on a pointless axis of denial,
just us and this nothing,
whirling in a syrupy void,
reaching around to lick
the last fleck of spun sugar.