This life I know all too well... La Chaîne Tour Ballerina, I rise off my feet to stand en pointé. My costume shimmering The bright lights focused on me. I elongate my arms into the air. Bending my small wrists. And the tips of my delicate fingers, lightly touching each other. I glance at the crowd, I knows he is watching. Mesmerized by my dance, I sense his longing. The long legs of this ballerina are linked, Chained together. I hear the music begin to play, This ballerina slightly tilts her head and turns. I do not deviate, For I am the Prima Ballerina. I know my discipline. Onstage I chained my legs. As I pirouette tighter and turned faster. Eyelids fluttered shut, head tilted downward, for a brief moment. Obsession to the point of perfection. He begs to know all of me, which I always knew. I had to be perfect. My head spinning and facing forward, This ballerina turned faster. Allongé, this ballerina reached further. Tourné plus vite sur ses pointes. Yet still I had to be perfect. Faster en pointe, Perfection. With every chaîne tour, Never stopping, He is watching, Wanting. I began to slow with every turn. The ballet continues. My Primo made his presence known. This ballerina slowed. Until I no longer turned, slowly lowering my arms. One hand gently and softly, grazing my face. I stand front, center stage. His eyes are intoxicated by my sight. Locked in a gaze, I knew would not disappear. Allongé, I bent my wrists. The tips of my fingers lightly touched. Before lowering my arms until they are in front of me. I dance across the stage towards my Primo. Where he waited, arms outstretched. The other ballet dancers facing him. This ballerina turned once more before falling back into the arms of her Primo. For I am the Prima Ballerina. I whisper, “I am perfect in my dance. -JH
Posted on: Sat, 06 Dec 2014 04:22:48 +0000
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