She leaps out of the white moon

It must have some cavern where you can hide 

Her pointed feet dance on the stars oddly strewn

and dive into the ever-rising tide

A sea witch appears with the presence of a smile

Some remnants of pointe shoe lay soaked at her feet 

They are my mother’s—her seaweed hair goes on for miles

My stars don’t shine here, for they are obsolete

A millennium goes by, a flash of lightning through a window

The sky glows white for a moment—an angel must have fallen

Some men cry, when was the last time feet had pointed so?

She peeks out the window, but too far, and she falls in

The black abyss was peaceful when she was here in it

Saturn cries for her, alas his rings only stretch so far

Somewhere deep in the blue and bottomless pit, 

she hears a voice in her sleep, a retching sparkling scar 

A sea witch guards over her body like a tether

Microplastics float above her head like her stars 

I think I had a mother once, though her name I can’t remember

Sometimes she likes to peer up and wonder where they are

Her gait was perfect, and dooming all at once

Until they came and broke her pointed feet, and since, she has fallen

We scream her name at the watery grave until we bleed from our lungs

Her name was once Mimas, and she will not be forgotten.