Midnight Gothic Pirouette

In whirling flight, she dances free, A fleeting dream of elegance, for you and me, Fifteen seconds of pirouettes and grace, A ballet burst, a waving arm's sweet space. With pointed toes and arms that flow like silk, She twirls, a vision, in a cathedral's milk, Purple shadows dance upon the stone, As stained glass colors weave a mystic throne. Her black tutu flares, a dark, sweet bloom, In gothic grandeur, she performs her room, A whispered gasp, a held breath, she's gone, Leaving wonder, like the sunset's dying song. 🌅