you know she lays there everyday
on the smooth parquet of her dance floor
redblack construction paper pieces around her twisted form
beautiful paper devils crumpled in her hand
& she still grasps the scissors tightly--
she dances extravagantly with no serendipity
and assimilates the rhythm with music in her ears
&dancedancedance until she is complacent
so.she.lets.the (lugubrious) melody fade away--
but she doesn’t rest & simply crumples
exquisitely tangled strands of hair to frame
her porcelain face
amongst her derogatory paper devils--
drenched in the sickly.sweet stench of sweat&blood
and sometimes she rises to keep dancing
in a zealous routine of feverish dreams
dance, girl, dance--

who said devils don’t grant wishes?

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