He stopped dancing today
I read the letter again
it was from my friend.
She says it was his heart.
His beautiful heart.
I shall miss him terribly.
He taught me all I am
I was Just an apprentice
he was Premier Danseur
at the company.
I was just a girl he said come
I shall make you famous
and you will glide across
the stages  of the universe.
It occurred to me we were
Becoming best friends.
What I did not know was
I was falling in love with him.
He was so gentle so kind.
I cannot imagine this company.
Without him.
For years we danced together
in all the cities of the world.
He would hold me afterwards
in the small hotel room.
Always calling me
his Prima Ballerina.
He aged as I grew famous
I saw his bleeding feet.
His broken bones.
His suffering for his instrument.
I could smell the musky sweat
He could no longer hide
And I knew his time was over.
When I visit Paris again
I will visit his grave
on a sunny day.
Touch his lovely name
on the granite.
I shall say
I always loved you
my champion.
It was always you.
And the spring sunshine
will light the gold filigree
of his chiseled name
on the granite headstone.
As though he knows
I am there for him.
As always.