Because God Loves Gilles de Rais

Violin plays
for the travelling motes,
its even tempo breathing their random chance,
sound reflecting back
with visions like the sun's;
who won't be left out.

Baking vortex
a scarecrow's foreground (?)
where to know is to fall
and to believe is to fall;
falling to start again.

The noise and the blows,
the flesh and the eyes
are rolling on,
some winking,
and some smiling,
but always
(in front of the scarecrow)
it's teeth
into 'hearts' and 'souls',
they go and they stay;
so pure to bite with,
so pretty to smile with.