Unsaid

After the circus clown painted his cheeks on, and carefully crayoned a fuchsia smile, he stepped onto the ring to begin his show. He began with the regular routine: the one with the squirt-gun tears, and the flower that was really a loud noise-maker. But, he pulled it off well, and soon, they were following him around like children and their mother, or the Apostles and Jesus. They couldn't get enough of his read painted cheeks, his crayoned lips. He spread his arms beckoning them in.

Anything you want, he seemed to say.

Anything you want.

The clown tossed his love over his shoulders like candy, and the crowd ate it up.