we dance
his hand rests gently on my hip, and mine stay pressed to the soft marble planes of his cheeks
My thumb moves across the diamond-sharp cheekbones
he turns his face into my hand,
and presses a kiss against my palm
my dress is made of the night sky
cut and sewn by his own hand
stitched with strings of pale moonlight
embroidered with stars and diamonds
he wears a tux, fitted and clean
he is so handsome
we dance
his smile is broad
it doesnt reach his midnight eyes
but it warms me,
It fills me
he spins me around, I feel the wind; I see the shimmering of my dress— but nothing else.
His thumb caresses my hip, while the other passes across my lip
"What's wrong, my pet? Am I not enough for you"
I look around, to the nothingness I breathe
the nothingness I stand on
the chain of blazing steel clinks against his shoe,
the collar around my neck tightens
The void stares back at me, his midnight eyes bright — his sensual lips, the ones that have kissed and loved me a thousand times, are curled into a frown
He presses them against my forehead,
the burn of their touch undoes me
and once again
I sit alone,
empty in a void,
with a burning chain — holding me to the floor.
