The exhaustion after the dance.
Aching of her feet, muscles stiff,
The pulsing of the music still there,
Vibrating along her tired young bones.  
The Stravinsky ballet takes it out of her.
Coco sits on the bench, stretches out
A leg, rubs along the shin. Eduard would
Have watched, would have studied each
Step, each leap, each pirouette. She can
Recall his finger running along her back,
The fingertip easing down between her
Buttocks. Oh, she says, out load, the other
Ballerina turning to note, ah, that touch,
That invasion. The other ballerina smiles
And turns away.  He will meet her after
The dance, will take her to the cafe, they
Will eat and talk and he will gaze and smile
And she will remember his touch and words
And the *** and the old woman downstairs
Banging up on her ceiling because of the
Noise of the bed, cries of joy, sensuous feeling.