Saturday, February 22

The Chandelier



THE CHANDELIER
Dainty gauze-embracéd girl—
A hummingbird, flitting from here to there,
Her apparition a mist-cloaked pearl,
Reflection in eternal squares.

With grace, she pauses, eyes agate,
And fingers pale as bone outreach.
Phantasms round her congregate;
Worlds sublime their forms have breached.

Ethereal movement in onyx walls
Define each turn of her porcelain neck,
While cynosure of the vast void hall
Shows a thousand stars in prismatic deck.

Five hundred crystals line each tier,
Opulent bonfire of colored glass.
Vanity’s shame, this chandelier—
Most beautiful baubles it has amassed.

Her jewéled wrists sanguine bedewed,
And countless mirrors  her face emulate.
Lost in nothing, no hope to brood,
The menagerie she must satiate.

Around her brittle body now
The ghosts, they hover, jealous wraiths.
New soul glints in the ceiling’s boughs,
Locked evermore in lucent case.

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