The room is white.
A single vanity light shows the way.
Her hennaed hand
caresses a blue jewel on the necklace,
lets it fall over the gown.
Lifting a single black hair
stretched to its length
she lets it fall to the silver floor.
From the magnolia tree,
a leaf, edges curled,
the slightest shade of gold
caught by a child.
Turning off the light she invites darkness.
It falls across her reflection
as the last of the light lingers in the mirror.
A question inhabits the dark,
tracing the arc of a demise,
the shattering of a glassy mind
paper thoughts fall,
lanterns in the air.