Docile feet pursue each other, tracing intricate lace patterns on the dormant oak,
balancing the tenderness of a blown dandelion with the agitation of her lover’s last sorrowful cry,
wings stretch to form the lightest of arms towards the heavens that rain artificial light,
praying for an enchanted outcome,
a serpentine symphony waxes then wanes coaxing her to do the same,
legs inch toward an unsettling realization,
doppelgangers cease their emulation; she is unaccompanied.
Her body convulses perfectly, folds gently, abruptly to the ground,
her arms billow in delicate, frantic confusion,
attempting to loosen the entrapments of death with a final arabesque but once again sinks to the turbulent oak.
Her audience sees the blood weep,
a leg splays out in the direction of  her deceased, betraying less for more, it falters,
it does not move again.
Flutterings surrender to the lull of love as her elongated torso snaps back,
her head submissively follows and the last note resounds.
She then rises to proudly courtesy.