Lamentations at the Opera

Coy ballerina upon stage of Lustre

She flirts and twirls

My innermost into frenzy of knots

Oh to be the salve 

For tenderly aching feet! 

Would that bounteous beads 

Of sweat a-gleaming

Transmute into beauteous jewels

To carry

To cherish

To remember you by

Upon a day

This lonesome soul

Shall pine for thee again.