She danced blindly with the lights
It caressed her innocence
Bloomed in a garden of weeds within the hedges
Of thorns

She was everything made to feel nothing
Reduced to ashes and yet still
Burned every night
Kindling for old bones
Tinder for shallow homes
And fragile flames
Made whole an empty temple
She became an echo
Mimicking, fading.

She was a ballerina
Pirouetting, into the darkness
Past the glittering lights
An actor of her own making
And the dance floor was her stage
She paints her face like an artist
But can never hide the bruises
Of temptation

And there
She burned bright
The fires lapping at her feet
Kindling for old bones
A reckless queen
Tending tinder for shallow homes
And fragile flames.