remember (a memory unmade)

painted masked demons dancing under gaslight,
the rising and falling of jumbled voices, accented
with raucous roars and breaking glass,
and the night, dark and shining with stars,
littered with bright, vibrant hues of purple and gold;

and you – alive, with joy,
you – without a broken heart,
you – dancing like you might of once done

a starkly dressed, yet seductive stairwell
within the missing angles of surveillance
we consider the disaster, but do not resist
given in instead to the robust impulse of furious lust

and you, – alive, with joy,
you, – with a racing heart,
you – an unmade memory .