Music Box

Am I here for you entertainment, tonight?
Pull the strings taut,
tight
over your ashy gloves
and your red-carpet loves.
Let the curtains rise and the spotlight
shine
on my wires--
silver, where you would not
accept the substitute of grey.

Or twine.

And I will dance especially for you, my master;
dust creaking joints,
plaster
flaking out with rust
and cheap clockwork dust.
I know no steps but under press learn faster
charred
by frictive steps--
bright, where you would not
have me shown without paint.

And scarred.

I am here for your entertainment this time,
jaw left unlatched,
grime
caught in the voice
of one last taken choice.
One last curtain called on all that's mine
decayed
when pass your eyes--
closed down, where you would not
see me bend, or crack, or break.

Or simply fade.

AKL 2005