The tiles gleamed
Or maybe beckoned
Just a little
In their attempt to entice her
Giving her feet tiny shoves
Coaxing her along
As light from each tall window
Aided in their scheme
Tossing about brilliant rhythmic glimmers
That bounced from black to white
Quickening her step
Toward a hero's chair
Attended by gilded picks and mirrors
Humming note upon note of open wide
With almost enough sweet harmony
To calm her pounding heart
But she knew her mouth faced martyrdom
Her teeth cringed
Accosting her gums
Her tongue withdrew
Perplexing her lips
She turned
Struggled against the goading stimuli
And flew into the summer sunlight
©kcasady2014
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