The most morbid duet

Mother and Lila dance. Lila wears her white dress, the one that billows, the one that flows, it goes from her neck to the tips of her toes. Mother spins Lila. Lila is the record in the record player. Lila twirls like a top, and she goes on forever. Lila loves to dance with mother. They fly, a duet, with mother in the lead. It stings, it burns, but Lila shouldn't cry, because it is her mother's love that plays with the song. Lila loves mother and the way she twirls her, spins her.

The pace is fast, in sync with the rhythm of the music, in sync with the vivid pounding of Lila's tiny heart against Lila's tiny chest. The tears come, they go, tears of joy mother screams gleefully.

Sometimes, mother does a solo. Lila must be very still. Lila must not move. Mother flails, she kicks, she flows with such precision, from year upon year that practice has allowed. Practice, makes perfect.

Lila and mother dance all night. Each step must be perfect, every leap, every twirl, or else Lila will never be mother's special girl.

Lila's white dress is red come dawn, and sometimes, she doesn't wake up next morn, but as long as she rises to dance the deadly duet, mother leaves baby to rest.

When mother dances, nothing is real, she floats on a cloud, stained scarlet in hue. Mother can whisk Lila up, up and away.

Each dance, each step shan't be forgotten, for the silent audience, though without applause, always leave flowers for the darling girl. A field of poppies, a patch of lilacs. Lila once tried to count them, but got swept away by mother's dark duet. Each flower is perfect, for it can't be removed. Purple pansies, purple lilacs, red roses that cover every inch of the room, never to be swept away. Many are fresh, few are wilted and fading because mother wants to give little Lila a lifetime of spring.

Other children, bear no such flowers, but mother's love is so strong, that it must come out of her hands, to the beat of each song.

Others don't understand, mother sneers, when Lila cries that a mother's love can only be expressed in the most morbid duet.