Kind of a riff on The Little Mermaid, from a book version I remember reading as a kid.

Hans Christian Andersen is Turning Somersaults in his Grave


Dancing on broken glass,

waves lapping at her feet,

knives hidden in the seafoam.

The blood of her true love

will set her free,

return her to the arms of the sea.

She chooses to dance on,


dancing on broken glass.