Gypsy

she will dance for you
in this fairy tale
hidden from the world
hiding to the bone
hanging by the throat
bleeding from her eyes
swallowed by the pride of another
dying from the shame
burning on her feet
buried in the wind
a flash of red
a dash of spark
locked eyes
fascination and pain
swaying hips
captivated thoughts
the beat she hears
the beat you feel
fire flickering between you
so far away
dancing alone
ethereal skin
bite your lip
taste your tongue
unfocused eyes
elbows on knees
head in hands
sleeping while you're awake
only way to dream
slow it down
one movement per lifetime
puppet on its strings
cut from her home
left all alone
shattered against the ground
tears sting
trace the lines of her face
can't fake a smile
can't bear to frown
floating on the waves
floating on her feet
letters traced in air
sewing lines that aren't there
mark these words on her grave
breaking free from the earth
feet scatter dust
as she dances alone

Comments

Look. It's another poem.

And, and it's not about death.

I know it kind of sounds like it, but it's not.

The title's there for a reason, as are all my title.

I'll let you figure out your own imagery.

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