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First Dance
She tiptoed across the stage,
blurred silence in suspended sostenuto,
gathering speed as she chaîné-d
in her battered pointe shoes.
Darkness and dust gathered in
creaking floorboards--
Nobody would come looking for her here.
Her weightless body traveled with
pirouettes and grand jetés
trembling with the heavy
vibrations of Tchaikovsky,
consumed by throbbing beats,
crescendo-ing melodies.
Stars ignited with ecstasy across
Roman blue canvas,
al fresco breeze whistling
past stained glass.
Her angel wing feet
tethered strength and tranquil grace
in fouetté and arabesque.
Fiery spotlight tickled
her rose flush face,
glowing within vertebrae
from every fire-bird crackle of
flexibility and agility.
Nothing but lilac scent
gripped the edges of her skirt.
Sweetness of sweat dripped
down temples and off shoelaces.
Floating eyes glistened and
twinkled at her every move,
but she danced like
there was nobody watching.
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