She is in my arms most of the time.
So we dance.
We dance to Bach – Blute Nur, du Liebes Herz.
…and then she smiles.
“Bleed on, dear heart.
Ah, a child that thou raised,
That sucked at thy breast,
Threatens to murder its guardian,
For it has become a serpent”
Image: Victorian Turquoise Snake Bracelet
France, late 19th century