The music plays on from the walls.
Rose-colored shoes draw intricate patterns
On my hand.
Tiny pixy dancer in my hand.
Softly adorning each finger with roses,
She sweetly sings a ballad of note unfouled.
Alluring without trying,
The rose grows to cover me,
Envelopes me in its softest shimmering arms,
And then I remember that I am alone
In a gray world.
Lost in a gulley,
Surrounded by bubbling trees marked by black X's.
The softest fern trampled,
Not alive to comfort me.