A Skeleton in a Dress

A skeleton in a dress,
so pale and fine.
With bones that gleam
in the moonlight’s shine.

Her ribcage is a corset,
so tightly bound.
Her arms, mere twigs,
her legs just sticks found.

Her skull, so graceful,
her eyesockets, hollow.
The cause of her death,
a crack in her neck.

But she smiles in eternal sleep.

She stands in the shadows,
a ghostly sight to see.
A skeleton in a dress,
eternally free.