The Dance

Blurs of color assault my vision

As elegant ladies

In elegant gowns

Whirl and twirl and

Have their fun.

I spin, twirling from

One blurred face to another,

Searching, searching

For my prince.

Grotesque masks grin at me,

Each partner just another

Wrong choice, fumbled step,

False love.

I continue to spin,

Whirling faster and faster,

Losing control, losing hope.

Until, panting,

I collapse.

An elegant heap

On the cold marble floor.

The dancers keep dancing,

Paying no mind

To my motionless form,

My empty soul,

My broken heart.