she cast a gaze
of typical ridicule
enhanced
with notes
of cyclical circumstance
leaving
the softer parts
of living
to fall
with the shed
scales of loneliness.

it was a movement
arranged across
the subdermal
spectrum
of childlike wonder
misplayed
by shaking
unpracticed hands
across
the ivory keys
upon ebon fallen tears.

there was
a sickness
a quickness
of fairy tale dismay
a certain
thinness
to this princess
softly swept away
to the underground
bunkers to hunker
as it all turns to gray.