
THE ENTERTAINER
She rages in like a thunderclap.
Then fireworks, a billion particles of light,
Ionized vapor,
The scent that she’d struck dodging amongst the senses.
Visibility is a cloak
Concealing ones and the spaces between.
The spirit is formless,
Immaterial,
Illusive.
Hides in plain sight.
Slips along the atmosphere.
Permeates then pools.
Gathers then dissipates.
A sprit can disperse so widely
Audiences can speed between her busy atoms and never know anyone is there.