Point them; flex them;
Point them; flex them;
Put them in your
Lap, lap, lap.

She was my mentor
My first teacher
My friend.

Fifteen years
I knew her.
Or did I?

First tap,
then jazz,
ballet was short.
Then I met her again
in modern.

This was the last time
she would be my friend.
Gradually,
she would become my enemy.

I would see her now and again
each time, getting more and more
fire up and down my veins.

Until one day,
the last day,
that was it.

A simple hello
sent tears rushing
down my face.

Never has a simple
greeting been more empty.
Never have your words stung so deep.
Never will they again.