Lanterns

this is our dance, beneath the pines

clothed in manufactured splendor

vulnerable at last, dressed to the nines

with lanterns strung higher than ever.

hanging by the thinnest threads

we wait for them to finally fall

and shatter our unprotected heads.

we never guessed the lights were heavy

and so in denial we keep them aglow

ever shining, ever dancing,

headlong into the night we go