the dancer
she pads, across
black-painted stage
scattered with fallen glitter
like stars.

she raises her arms -
head turned
to one side, eyes
down, and
face
serene.

she leaps
and light curls from her toes
sparkling
swirls.

her body makes
fierce
hostile
whipping
and beautiful turns,
round and around
she circles
she
twirls
kicking up
dust and
stars
which drift around her
in the silence
of the awe
she strikes.

her feet make muffled
bare thumps
as she glides
and lands
no music, only
the quick swish of her
ruffled skirt
and the
gentle pads of her
light leaping

she is silent, she is
reposed.
her eyes never find
the audience that watches her
they are fixed on
the stage
her lips
they move
counting
whispering
beats,
barely.

she spins
and she leaps
she twirls
in the heavy velvet-silence
of the black theater
she twists and bends
and leaps and circles.
the silence
proves true
her incandescence,
the golden swirls
twist with her.

the dancer
she falls
still
toes point towards floor
arms hover
eyes search the blackness
which, as one,
explodes.