Gladiolus
in full bloom
neath her ruby pointe shoes,
as she pirouettes
to the glory of moonlight’s lustre;
shooting stars only serve to remind her
of ships that sailed
and days gone by,
so they bloom,
the gladiolus.
Pearls,
they fall
atop her pointe shoes
one by one
as she fouettés to the melody of the night birds,
their song plucking her heartstrings;
then she recalls
that one day;
so they fall,
the pearls.
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