Anatomy Of The Leg

In 2013 Amélie Ségarra danced on a Grand Piano with knives taped to the tips of her feet. The room is empty apart from a single man in a music box He wears a black an white suit buttoned up to the collars with bronze cufflinks, To get up she uses an old Woven Rope in brown You can see her nipples as she looks up, Adam's apple following her gaze along with everything else. She starts dancing. From above the waist her arms jut out, grabbing widely at air and trust But below it's easy At times it looks harder to be the piano. Remember how close she got to the edge. Rapidly tapping the tips of toes, taped into shoes, Screwed onto knives. At times the screech was louder than the music. Engaging her hips she’d lift up her thigh, bent at the knee The arch of her foot seeming to just hang there. Before it drops she makes the sound of a boxer. Something only rooms with loud figures giving orders to lots of people doing the same thing in repetition can bring out. The music has stopped, so now all you hear is knee engaging ankle, Holding up a foot wrapped in pink ruffled straps. Smalling down an into a seemingly endless Grand Piano.