Dark, vaulted ceiling
Room smoldering with curiosity
Black and white checkerboard floor
Game afoot
Set in stone
No turning back now
No symmetry,
Trapezoids cause my collapse.
White Grecian columns hide
A lurking shadow:
Jell-O Man moves, bounces,
Falls, bounces back
I mirror his steps
Swaying
With the grace of a prima ballerina
My face falls through
The ashen theatrical mask
Covering the identity
Of an emotionless jester,
Confused and lost, he falls again
And bounces back
In his multicolored paisley togs
Under a valiant black cape
Lined with harlequin-esque majesty
Venerably reaching forward
For me
Pulling, grasping
With warrior courage
I acquiesce.
Laughter overwhelms the playful charade
As I assimilate his last gasp of air
And become him.
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