dancer
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With fiery red hair
she slices through the water
Her dance is her heart's song
The words know only of her
Her home, family, friends
Her beginning and possible ends
Frozen in time,
Made only to be observed.
Pasty white and porcelain
Some might believe me to be dead.
I think I used to dance,
Judging by how I stand.
But that had to be long ago,
My thoughts
they spin
they twirl
lovely in their madness
their chaos
their beauty...
And I wish I could portray it
replicate it
draw it
grasp it
see it...
The bun upon my head,
Sleek and aerodynamic.
They may think my style is a fad,
Changing and passing with time.
Though It's classic,
Pure and genuine.
Flawless Dancer
The lights brighten and the curtain rises.
I stand motionless...
Shaking.
The light kissed their faces Heaven's hue through which it shown An empty stage apart from her alone.
I am your objective, your currency of pleasure, your object of desire for secret endeavorsYour makeshift girlfriend, a hired girlfriend experienceYour midnight walk in the park or your Cat-ness in the lion’s den
Today
Shades upon shades of cover and shadow
Smokescreens of laughter filling an empty hallow.
Nobody knows and nobody will ever know.
The book nerd who devours stories
that pushes
She spins around in the meadow
Hands outstretched, dress whirling around her bare legs.
Her eyes are closed.
She spins and dances on.
Small bright flowers dot her hair
She wears a simple white dress
