The finale accumulates dry-ice
and the floor of the ring drops
surreptitiously while we watch
the sequinned dancers –

their costumes revealed
as swimwear when the ring
floods with glistening droplets.
Before we can perceive it

the performers dive, the water
is that deep – the false floor
all that time beneath
the sawdust flickering away

as the smoke machine sang.
When each dancer is immersed
they flail in time for a while
then the lights go up

on the wooden benches
that reconnect with our minutely
transformed bodies as we try
without fail to exit the circus.