Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The dance has exhausted, the muscles pull and become taut and tense. She remembers Marcel’s taunt: she could not dance after such a night of *** She leans over, ties tighter her shoes, her fingers fumbling, her back aching, limbs trembling. She looks up, sees the other dancers in line, pulling at dresses and tights, hair in place. She rises, pulls at her dress, tidies her hair, stands in line, trying to focus, mind on the now, not last night, not on the *** **** maybe Marcel was right.
0
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 3:06 AM UTC
MARCEL WAS RIGHT.
The dance has exhausted, the muscles pull and become taut and tense. She remembers Marcel’s taunt: she could not dance after such a night of *** She leans over, ties tighter her shoes, her fingers fumbling, her back aching, limbs trembling. She looks up, sees the other dancers in line, pulling at dresses and tights, hair in place. She rises, pulls at her dress, tidies her hair, stands in line, trying to focus, mind on the now, not last night, not on the *** **** maybe Marcel was right.
terry-collett
Written by
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 3:06 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem