You were so full of world
And whirl and maybe
I could see submerged cities —
Moonlight refracted off your bones
Places you’ve never been.
Your sighs to dance like they did.
All feathers. All sequins.
Your ballroom of tomorrows

You have been on your feet for years
Swaying to the rhythms
Of your thankless children
Bowing to the sickly.
No whisk or wing
The midday sun
On your peony skin.

When wine soaked serenades
Were decadence
And our confessions
Were music itself
You threw your handkerchief
Into the gas fire.

The extravagance
Of Ice cream.
Of taking both flavours
In your mouth.

What can I tell you
That won’t **** us both?

It’s your turn to waltz now, my lamb
What else do the dead wish for?