There is sanctity in dance, in the movement of the soul.
But a woman who dances, in light of dark sin
Has no place dancing on church grounds.

She dances barefoot, on moon lit marble floors
Her feet touch the ground for the slightest of moments
She floats and she sways, with her head tilted back
and her lips part open, in sinful relief.

No music plays
No candles are lit
There is no audience.

The lady in red, continues to dance
Ceaselessly until, her feet crack and bleed.
Until her blood mixes and mingles, with the blood of the dead

She dances
and dances
Yet no music plays

But through the sunrise, and longer than day
she moves with her grace, to dance for the dead
until she herself crumbles, bleeding deep red