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