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Dance of perfumed shadows

A Villanelle

By Markéta Vegrichtová Published 10 months ago 1 min read

Feet, don’t fail me tonight,

Each step a stumble, each breath a quake,

Within these halls, I stand contrite.

Here drifts the air, a perfumed invite;

My painted poise, the prize at stake,

Feet, don’t fail me tonight.

Until the sun spills gold and light,

Half lost in dreams, half still awake,

Within these halls, I stand contrite.

Heels are high, red lips burn bright;

Longing and danger dance with fate,

Feet, don’t fail me tonight.

The dream dissolves before the plight,

And every wall begins to shake,

Within these halls, I stand contrite.

When dawn steals all borrowed delight,

Only blush remains; my mask I forsake,

Feet, don’t fail me tonight,

Within these halls, I stand contrite.

heartbreakVillanellesurreal poetry

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    Written by Markéta Vegrichtová