Music Box

Am I here for you entertainment, tonight?
Pull the strings taut,
over your ashy gloves
and your red-carpet loves.
Let the curtains rise and the spotlight
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,
flaking out with rust
and cheap clockwork dust.
I know no steps but under press learn faster
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,
caught in the voice
of one last taken choice.
One last curtain called on all that's mine
when pass your eyes--
closed down, where you would not
see me bend, or crack, or break.

Or simply fade.

AKL 2005