ripped jeans and glass slippers
one more forced fairy tale monument
to pretty voiced figured out fables
she falls through the aging sky
he's standing there by the spray painted outline
of all her fading paper angels
determined to catch that teasing skeleton man
racing through glazed rain slicked streets
all her innocent elegance mistaken for naivety
red laces tied in twos around the white plains
of her forearms criss crossed
dragging around the cumbersome swirling weight of his shadow
somewhere in a tower
a bell chimes, needs them
slow dancing around the bringers of unhappiness
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