She danced in glass slippers 
Covered in jewel dust 
Her eyes sparkled 
In random patterns of confusion 
As if holding something in her arms 
So precious 
For fear of crushing it to bits 
She was afraid to touch 

The float of her gown
Attracted such stares 
A room full of suitors grew seasick 
When she turned to cast a glance 
Her iceberg eyes gashed you
Below the beltline 
The sinking feeling
Was blood leaving your legs, 
Leaving your head
Misstep with her
And you're dead
She hovered as she covered the room 
And all else knew too well 
She was fire in a cloud of gasoline 
The gloves that sparkled 
Of shattered hearts and dreams 
Would hold out a quest
For a gentleman's kiss 
While the other 
Would daintily tear into your soul
Like a butcher knife in Vaseline

They admired her from afar 
So proper not to dance too close 
To sample the wake of sweetness 
That followed 
And give themselves an overdose 
Of glitter 
But she moved with poetry 
Of a dark comic whit 
The joke wasn't funny 
To the subject of it 
They knew she'd never ever beat 
A patter to their pitter 

The stranger had an air 
Of a millpond of doom 
Deep and black 
Hiding under a safety blanket of hair 
He entered the room 
When the song of glassy tap, tap 
Pitched harder and higher 
"Pleased to meet you, I am..." 
Like the rub of wet crystal 
While holding the stem 
She held out her hand to him
Briefly sneezing on diamond dust 
He gently grasped it
Twinkling with the delight 
Of finding buried treasure 
But he danced a little too close 
Unlike most 
The press of her hand  pulled out a rib 
And reached around with the other 
"This may hurt just a bit" 

His heart replaced with shards
The stranger crashed
Face down, hard
And the crowd stood in a circle 
Of guilty silence 
As the songs played again and again 
The innocent beauty 
The brighter her gloves                                       
Than they had ever been

October 31, 9:37 am
Copyright 2009 Michael Paul