Illustration © 2021 Cécile Matthey
because I would not dance for Death—
he kindly danced for me
and showed me a lesson
in
graceful—
humility
he slowly moved—a deathly pace
serenaded by—the deathly shapes
that hovered over
and twirled along
in ghastly—
symphony
and I stood there…
I stood there…
mouth agape
admiring
with composure
and grace
his sublime—
ability
that is
until—
he reached for me
for me alone,
in this phantom ball,
in this phantom hall,
beyond the veil
of—
tranquility
and then—as if by spell
I moved in…
I moved in…
and grabbed his hand
and took the lead
and in the lead—
we danced!
oh, how we danced!
swaying and spinning
through the air—
in perfect harmony
and though our time was brief—
all too brief
I found a comfort here
here,
in his embrace,
his deathly embrace,
relieved
by his exalted—
civility
because our little dance
it taught me death
it taught me life
within the limits
of—
possibility
for no matter the gown,
no matter the ball,
this little dance unites all
and so I dance here…
yes,
I dance here…
with bated breath.
for we are all equal unto Death
requiescat in pace
© 2021 J.D. Harlock
© 2004-2023, The Future Fire: ISSN 1746-1839
The magazine retains non-exclusive rights for this publication only, and to all formatting and layout;
all other rights have been asserted by and remain with the individual authors and artists.