Ballet Class

Hair pulled tight,

cinnamon buns atop heads

and pale pink tights

everywhere.

Eyes swallow leotards –

black and purple and

do I need one?

My point is a sickle

when I try too hard

and my arms are chicken wings.

How did I used to hold them?

Pirouettes are my favorites and

oh yeah! Pop the standing leg for a

fuller arabesque and dammit

I never could spot.

There are claps and smiles and

the room is like a sauna,

our shoes brushes on the

wooden floor.

Exhale.

Square up.

Hold that balance.

Raise the arms and

let go,

let go,

let go.

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