A pull – this forever moment;
Yearning midnight moon.
To tie dangling laces around my neck
That drip about the floor
Tangling deepest desires – honey thick,
With unending silence
Echoing off my midnight grace.
I handle tip-toes with heaving breath,
Twirling dazedly in passion’s clutch
And remembering concert halls
Echoing my nothing butterflies,
Vibrant and fleeting
– My dancer’s death –
Upon well traced wooden floors
And my forever midnight moon.