Performance

they tap on the floor up and down and up again a graceful jeté here, a pirouette there disregarding the blisters and blood every step done in perfect synchrony thirty hours of rehearsal – more, more the music ebbs and flows bows slide against strings, pressing calluses she flies into the air, time stands still muscles clench and stretch skirts whirl to the joyous tunes fingers ache from the pricks of needles flawless white shoes from the dirt and dust something grand and exquisite birthed from toil, as a phoenix does rises from the point of their toes so often bruised, but never faltering and the magic of the dance – an art, from the shoes we slip on in dressing rooms with delicate satin ribbons to the curves of our fingers and the violins, the pianos, soaring higher to our grand finale, standing proud and tall the thick velvet curtains wave as the cheers resonate in our ears.