They haunt this place. Invisible footfalls dance,
they rise in ghastly ballet; grotesque arabesques
against bone-colored walls, murmurs without voices.

Low laughter ripples beneath flesh, crackles along a dead line.
Strange shades waltz beyond the corners of perception,
twirling to a spectral band; the sweet scent of Mignonette
an undefinable presence, it's decay lingers on the air.

Revenants in party dress, their passage kisses the skin;
they whisper close, seductive invitations to the dance.

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