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Ballerina

I don’t know where she is
The little ballerina
That swung like a spinning star
With innocent giggles
That woke the tempest doom
Lying prostrate on anxious laps
After an immaculate transposition
Of impeccable steps
Sweat slithering through the 
Afro lines of her kinky hair
Dripping melts of gold

I don’t know where she is
The little black swan
From the northern coast
That slid on the aquatic
Orchestration of Mozart
With the masterpiece
Of her magic feet
That swept sunken souls
Off their hallowed horrendous cocoons





I don’t know where she is
The little mermaid 
That swum through turbulence of minds
And spread her tail for frogs and fish to lay
As they waited for kiss of love
To embrace their hidden elegance

I don’t know where she is
The little surfer
That surfed on furious waves
And became queen of hearts
Her crown of dignity
Unlocked stubborn minds
Her infuriating patience
Derailed tragedies
She curved along meanders
Of troubled rivers
Looking for her reflection
But the wind was too jealous
To let her grab her image
The image that calmed storms
The image that ceased avalanches

Where is the little ballerina
That smiled like the sun
And tilted her arms
Like branches of willows
Where did she go?
The little ballerina
That loved with passion and depth
The addictive personality that lured bees
Where did she hide?
What killed her scent?
Who stole her image?
I still hear her innocent taps
On the dance floor
I can almost see her feet swinging 
Up and down the graceful floor
Her unspoken truths 
Her fierce elegance
The echoes of her giggles
The freedom in her gestures
The essence in her nature  

I don’t know where she went 
I will never know where she hides






Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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