The Dancer,
the burden of the civilized world on her
eroding shoulders.
A whisper of silence,
her breath stirring the serpentine
curls across her lips.

This Dancer’s doomed by the shine in her
eye, cursed to be
fondled by those who hold her leash
so fiercely,
so lovingly.
In dreams she lives,
writhing in smoke.
A shiver of discontent is her
only expression, as the vapor
slithers to extort.
Diminish.
Drowning in her induced
dementia,
the world accedes,
recedes,
now only a dream of a dream,
burrowed in the shinning corners of a
hapless mind.

This forlorn
Fräulein,
raped, broken.
Glittering under the moonlight,
like so many jewels,
buried in such a lovely
box.

:mina: