#soufuldance

Folded around her knees, she listens for that one private chord where May, memory, and muscle agree, and from there she rebuilds the girl the stage keeps asking for.

Against stone's resilient hold she bends, legs a pyramid of contemplative grace— elequisoly thinking better themes unfold, soul's livid wave where I become whole.

I brace myself like a bell to be rung, then let the music strike a true sound.

Toes like brushes, the floor her canvas; blood dries into a private varnish— applause steals the smell of effort.