Like a constellation, they stand
transfixed around him,
she dancing as he plays
piano through the night.
Hot star, blue giant,
he is luminous in the dark,
ready to ignite, each act
performed to a full house,
until darkness has fled
and sunlight stuns them
to sleep. Left with the dregs
he coaxes: ‘I can’t sleep
now – stay with me’, voice
slippery with alcohol,
his left eyelid drooping
like a fixed wink;
those liquor-surreal
hours making her
waver to a nebula.
A rising star, so like him;
his gaze fused on her,
a corpse flower bloom
in a wolf house.
It’s no wonder she fled
and he lost his sunlight.
Now, the house
is pitched to starless.
Copyright © Afric McGlinchey 2012
