Piroutte
It’s time. I delicately slide the silky
pearl white tights onto my legs
I notice Goosebumps cloaking
my body like a plaster cast
binding me in so rigidly i can
barely breathe. But then
I drape my white tutu over
my shoulders and arise,
scraping my hair into a
taut and crisp bun.
I place the wilting
satin shoes on my feet
and snake the ribbons into
an array of coils and dives.
I nestle myself among my friends
timid and reluctant as we launch into our warm-ups
with lunges that give a deep burn in the thigh adding to
the intensity of the impending and fear-provoking event. I am hoping that
when i enter the room the notes will hush the gnawing voices of doubt and i
will be at one with them: blending, intertwining: and i will be able to disregard
the eyes watching my every move, judging every curve, pirouette, and leap.
The Bell Rings and i float in on my toes and take my position at the barre amongst
the serene tidal wave of music that replenishes my
MIND, BODY, HEART, AND SOUL
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