• I observe the ancient wonder
    An old music box,
    Whose shell is enclosed in aged mahogany.


    The innards contain dissimilar gears and cogs
    Raped by rust laid out by Father Time,
    In his endless cycle.
    The scarred ballerina
    Her painted flesh corroding to a dust.


    I witness the aging ballerina
    In her endless German Waltz.
    Yet the music, still pure,
    As if the music fixes this artifact
    As if it was her.
    cheese_whine