strings.

Here she
is
a fragile nymph
clad
in bridal finery. The

moon shimmers
and she
glistens
.. imperially.

Magic.

The cold wind
whooshes,
sharpskinnumbing

The audience
ecstatic -
and her master
ruthless.

Her
strings
(in his hardhard hands)
Moving her skillfully
..unwillingly

Frolicing around,
bending
and curving

delicately.

Questioning,
gaping wide eyes,
spectating her, cherishing
her helpless
ness.

Nobody recognizes the
torment
and
defeat. She

spins,
they join her



there.


The music
roars,
winds howl and she
falls.


Stillness
..silence.

They leave
one
by
one,
The moon still
shimmers,
and the bridal finery,
glistens

The strings are
loose
and she lays still
daily
defeated
..by him.