Her movement was as
ghostly as dew droplets
falling into the water
Her dress was long and
white and she appeared
beautiful as a drowned
woman
Long flowing blond hair
that glowed in the
light of the moon
pouring it's dazzling magic
on her
Weaving in and out of
moonlight her pale flesh
turned to that of nothing
merely than earthly bones
flesh, bone, flesh, bone
back and then again
She was getting ready
for her wedding day
forgetting that was fifty years
ago
Forgetting she was to
weep in a moon drip
of sadness and woe
Like those ballerinas in
music boxes forever
fated to dance and prepare
for an occasion they'd never attend
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