In her quarters she rests, dear beloved Camille
Preserved and
kept in solitary time
The latent dust
never rises, settled still
In her silent
asylum she lies
She dreams of dancing under darkened skies
Where the
moonlight adorns the dead
If she still had
lids she would open her eyes
as he sits at the foot of her bed
as he sits at the foot of her bed
He cradles the
corpse with a temperate lift
So not to
puncture her porcelain sphere
Into the
ballroom the candles are lit
As they dance
under the black chandelier
With her feet off the ground she
moves with his pace
Until the dawn
exposes the day
You can almost
remember the smile on her face
Before the skin
slowly rotted away
Patient Camille,
all she has is time
She waits for
him to appear
She may be dead
but she feels most alive
Underneath the
black chandelier