burn us into being.
Parched, we buy sarsaparillas
and play at being human.
The Tilt-a-Whirl spins us into the fun house
and we kiss on the Ferris wheel.
We leave, again and again,
but the carnival music sucks us into cotton-candy giddiness.
A slipstream on repeat and your hand slides away from mine
on the carousel, and
we lose to this game of madness.
Where do we go from here, my upside-down, inside-out