Ficlets

Dance, beauty -

fling your arms up to the roof of the world -
and your slippered nimble feet, they flash
like mirrors slivers of lightning that tear down the sky.

You spin and twirl late into the night,
and the stars that twinkle like dew-droppen leaves
are the only witnesses.

Up, up, up,
you prance up the sky’s staircase –
Dance, beauty, dance -

The melody soars, and
your soul along with it.
Feel the notes pulse in time to your heartbeat.

Whirl – leap – skip – fly –
and then –
silence.

But you continue to twirl,
lost in a paradise only your own -
yet truer than anything that ever was.

Dance, my beauty –
dance.