Carvings left to paint in school,
Dressed white like virgin's birthday;
They hold no hand to your beauty,
For you are a dancer without the dress;
Softly twirling
Around the night rain, faster.
Today bleeds no glory for the famous,
They play like dolls at a party;
Drink your tea,
Eat your sweets
but slip and your porcelain shall shatter,
The perfect does not seem so without the mask.
You conjure the wake in which I walk,
Tightly strung across my heart.
Pluck my petals,
Dandelion songs stretch tightly across lavender molds;
Dance, softly swinging.
The sky could never look as beautiful, as it does today,
Laugh, at the ignorance that surrounds us all
Smile,
Because vanity has never felt so faulty,
As it does today.
©Ashley Leslie 2013
