a spinning record hums absorbed in its own sweet lullaby 

in the corner of this room the light cascades through the veil placed across the peeling window frame

and there she stands

her bare soles placed so delicately on the wooden floors

long golden wisps of hair fall from her crown down to her soft waist 

pale arms stretch up to the heavens with a shadow outlining every quivering muscle

slowly she spins, gracefully shifting her weight from one foot to another

her wrists interweaving, waltzing with one another

the sun catches the cotton dress and her elegant silhouette shines through

i watch a face so peaceful, so distant, and so happy

if i could be like her a cloud in the blue skies

floating, drifting, shifting from one shape to the next

but it cannot be 

thus i sit here 

a heap on this dirt covered floor

1.