In silken shoes, she twirls upon the stage,
A whisper of the wind, so light, so free,
Her movements paint the air, a soft engage,
With every leap, she writes a symphony.
Dainty as petals kissed by morning dew,
Delicate lines drawn in the evening light,
A fleeting dream, with every turn she flew,
A fleeting glimpse of heaven, pure delight.
Her heart...
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