• A soft tinkling of music.
    The small porcelain girl curled into an elegant pose atop a
    stage set just for him.
    "Keep dancing, my little ballerina."
    And she does.
    Dancing for an eternity, spinning endlessly while the
    melody plays.
    Why must I go on like this?
    A single tear runs down a pale cheek.
    She's so cold, and yet when he smiles, she feels aglow.
    Twirl, twirl, twirl.
    There seems to be no end.
    Then he leaves without a word and she is allowed to rest
    for the time being.
    Within the interchanging locks and mechanism,
    a rust had begun to form.
    It's slowly spreading now, even as he returns to watch her
    dance again.
    Like a poison, it destroys from the inside.
    "Keep dancing, my little ballerina."
    But she can't.
    The music has stopped.
    The glow is gone, and she has become dull from use.
    Placed in a box, she watches as he smiles sadly.
    "My little ballerina is no more."
    Don't leave, she wants to say but dolls can't speak.
    Darkness embraces, but there is a shaft of light.
    It falls on the cold cracked skin of the porcelain doll
    and she begins to dance.
    Forever in her own dreams.
    His little ballerina