faded parlor

do you sink into the ceiling
when you feel like a weightless nothing?
i gaze at the grass and hide my eyes
in the green.
i'm a painter who rips the canvas,
a lover who makes hate.
fractured skies
hover like old age.
the shadow puppet ballet dancers are air
and nothing else,
but why do they hunger?
what comes back down the stream
was never meant to leave.