Clara Ma

The ballroom is where gilded chandeliers swing,

Shining so bright as if stars of a night.

The ceiling, spread with paintings of old days

Depicts the same maidens underneath it,

Though we are not clear like the Blue Danube,

Nor shallow, nor see-through, we masquerade

Together in full synchronization,

Because, of course, it takes two to tango.

I am but an actress who waltzes and

Moves in a Dance Macabre, sorting lives;

And each gesture and spin becomes a turn

In an endless game of cards, of checkers.

The cosmic waltz between black holes is nought

Compared to the royal ball of the stars.

I am Queen Aria of the moonlight.

Rhythmic movement between assassins

Is followed by song from the Grammofon;

A violin somewhere starts to cry.

And you, there standing in lack of disguise,

Seem confused at my way of life. Have you

Considered your own is likely the same?

It does not matter. I will take your hand,

My Sweet and Tender Beast. Knight, come, and

See the knives beneath the silk and satin.

Come watch as we move through the steps of the

Minuet, the quadrille, and the pavane.

And when you grow tired, feel free to go.

I shall not become weary of the one

Merry Go Round of Life. This pirouette

Has been all I ever knew; From the day

I was born, I have had and known a mask.

So the waltz continues in royal perse.

I live a Carmen Fantasy of night.

Stay with us in dance; Do not be afraid.

You’ll come to like the blank smiles, stuck at

Three in the Morning. Delay your leaving.