the rose waltz

and in the evening, they would dance
light, in the air, as gravity lifted from their hearts
and soon she would whisper to him
as she turns to pirouette
and he, falling to one knee

as the silk of their skin begins to graze
the circulation of their steps bring them closer
and promises unfold from her lips like paper butterflies
as his steps turn he brushes her side
as the snow begins to fall he knows she is pure

the streams of amber liquors
quicken this dance, revolving, unraveling
at last as they turn to kiss
he is pushed away
and left wondering
left to drift as a ghost in the shadows
behind the sway of a scarlet curtain
and once again realizes he is left alone

as the curtain lifts he finds the setting alit
upon the stage, given time to race
his memory replaying the steps of his dance
cursing his pretty words beneath his breath
he begins to bleed
as the lights above the setting start to fall
and he sees every empty promise break
as the bulbs shatter at his feet
still he continues his dance, alone

but as the steps wear on
and his voice begins to tremble
his purity flows from him.
he realizes she is there
but no longer his
standing in the crowd, she beings to clap
soon the assembly erupts into applause
and he simply looks upon them sadly
for he hates them
and he knows he is not the same
but he does not hate her
and she knows she is his only weakness

as his steps finish
they throw him roses
as the poetry he bleeds from his mouth runs dry
he can see his breath in the air
and he simply looks upon her sadly
he realizes they will never dance
as they once did
and she averts her eyes

he whispers "the deed is done. the dance is done."
as the scarlet curtain falls and softly sweeps the floor of the stage
his body falls as well, lifeless, to the floor