She danced on the rooftops with the moon to her back
Proud and shining on her elegant ballet
Whisps of fog entwined her shadowed figure
As she glided backwards with her final bourree, into the night
A secluded heart now followed her everglow light

Sharp turns,
Bright smile,
Pointed feet,
Beautiful face,
Tall posture,
Straight arms,
Technique.



"It's all about the technique."
They said.
Constantly. Screams in my
ear.
Doubts of skill,
of capabilities.



"Hair up, watch the posture!"
Whispers in the corner.
Judges, teachers,
watching my every skin.
Old shoes,
grey in colour,
worn-out,
blood-stained,
exhausted.
Two injuries to the leg,
A forced smile,
A lust for sunsets.



Wrapped the shoes in
bandages.
Enough,
for the grand
finale.



Carried by the wind,
two strong arms, brown in
colour, defined.
Up, and up I go.
Look up, chin up, fingers up.
Like an angel.
"Move the hands sharply.
With the music.
Relaxed, yet strong."
Down I go, back to the chest.
A face, two eyes, brown lips.

Tall posture, hands meet,
Pirouettes, Assemblé, Plié.
Stop.
Turn to look,
fall in love.
Grande Jeté. Tour en l'air.
A Pas de deux. In perfect sync.
He looks past me. Past my eyes,
past my soul.



I stare at him. Directly. Entering his
very orbit. Exploring the chocolate of
his orbs.
Relishing his scent, the drops of sweat
dripping from his brow.
Back down I fall.
A final Panché.
Staring up, leaning
towards him.
Him. Staring at another.
In a closet, while I,
savour the bitterness
of a Pas de deux.

A little girl danced to a song
her world small and nothing wrong
And in that instant she knew that she
a dancer she would always be
Her dream since the tender age of five
she knew that she must work and strive
Stumbling, falling, she fell to the ground
hurting herself severely she found
Years later it was all just a dream
everything went back to normal it seemed
And then one day she hurt it again
but still she pushed on and didn't let it win.

For long months she endured and toiled
the pain refusing to be foiled
They all tried to make it heal
but it wouldn't, and her fate it sealed
Keeping it hidden from everyone close
even the ones she loved the most
For she was scared and very angry
didn't want to lose her dream you see
When it was all too much to shoulder
she caved in and the world turned colder.

They told her she would have to quite
her heart a candle no longer lit
She stopped breathing as the world froze
blinking numbly she arose
Sitting backstage as her music played
mutely staring as the future was made
And then the music ended
and all the dancers ascended
As she sat thinking, "is this real?"
"Why God? I just want it to heal."
Tears frozen in her eyes
as she desperately wished it was lies
Picking up a flower from the floor
all that was left of what was before.

Holding herself alone at night
the crying girl a broken sight
Losing her dream was the hardest thing
her voice she found no longer sang
What would she do now that its gone?
a uncaring façade she would have to don
All that was left was memories
she wished the unending pain would just cease
The poor little girl learned to soon
that the world was harsh and full of gloom
The hardened girl still remembers
a life she had, now ashes and embers.

She'll never forget but she will let go
telling her precious dream farewell
To this day it still hurts
but she's stronger now when it wont desert
I know this girl very deeply
because you see
its really
me.
-Esther L. Krenzin-
-Roguesong-

the way she swayed and leaped
embodying the strokes of a paintbrush
dancing across the canvas
a solid blur of pink and white

every twirl was breathless
every plié like silk

in that moment,
she existed as the most elegant force alive

every move commanded attention
she was grace