As the neon turns on, and the night does brighten, in the ring stands one person, followed by a kitten.
It is Tiruin! She stands, garbed in full circus attire. Flamboyant in nature, with a masque covering her sire.
The kitten rounds her, in circles of eight. She picks the kitty up, and in all eyes it conflagrates.
Yet by the masque she does wear, no emotion is seen. The fires stop burning, and all's left is a bean.
She draws a sabre behind her flamboyant dress, and pokes a hole in the ground, planting the bean--yet I digress.
Immediately a stalk shoots, and a flower bud ripens. Out pops the kitten! How the audience was frightened.
She who burned it lowered her sword, and the kitten looked up. It pranced and it balanced, on the sword like a pup.
Tiruin smiled-yet not obvious, it seems-as she flung the kitten in the air. It landed on the upper beam.
The Masque sheathed her sword, and began climbing the pillars, at the top was a rope--a razor-thin wire.
An unsheathed sabre in her hand, she bowed to the crowds; she adopted a dueling stance, and trapiezed on the house.
The kitten, however, did not obviously stay put. It disappeared behind a curtain, and out came a mouse.
Now the two were on the same height--the elevated platforms in the air,
Tiruin stared calmly, the mouse took her dare. With a leap and a hop, it came upon the wire, the two met in the center, with only an inch between death and dire.
The Masque lowered her sword, and the mouse hopped on the tip. With a flourish of weapon, the swordswoman gave it a flick.
The mouse flew into the air, and fell off the wire. With a bow, did Tiruin follow, before backflipping down after.
Oh the mouse truly did fall--and a fall it truly was. No safety net in sight, a danger to death it caused.
Yet gravity is silly, as silly as can be. As in the circus, nothing truly is, as magnificent as you see.
Before the ground a squeak is heard, Tiruin caught the little one, and in a show of acrobatics, landed like a cat on the sun.
The balls of her feet took the blow firsthand, she landed in a crouch, and bowed once again.
The audience did stare, for this was different, you see. Out from the cusp of her hands, was a kitten-no three!
And in her other, was the mouse and its squeak. Tiruin bowed again, her masque covering her glee.
The lights dimmed once, and twice in that manner. What was left of the stage was a now truly empty platter.
Tiruin disappeared, done with her act for the limelight--whatever is, would happen, whatever is, is in the night.