The waxing crescent moon is dim
but it sheds light enough to see
thirty dusty glass eyes
staring right back at me

Neat spun curls in copper, gold, and chocolate
beneath delicate straw hats trimmed in lace
fifteen cold bodies stand stock still
with all of their gazes trained on my face

Dainty petticoats fluffy under dresses
and leater boots over feet without toes
what they do when we close our eyes
nobody truly knows

Painted-on cheeks and smooth porcelain grins
fifteen flawless girls all perfectly dressed
smiling wide because they all know
this night will give me no rest