a perfectly pristine
pair of pointe shoes
in the palms of a
doe-eyed, slightly petrified child
a soft, satin ribbon to
graze her fingertips
as she looks at it
and wonders if they could possibly fit
all the dreams she’s ready
to pour into it
soft, pale, peach-pink ballet armour
strong enough to hold her up
gentle enough to melt
into the warm wood of the stage
beneath the satin,
the paper, the glue
that create a box
too small for her ambition
but big enough to hold her up
as she arches her feet
leaps, reaches
arabesque, the yearning
for something more than she can hold
something brighter, something bold
something to be, not just dream
something to kiss the blue
of the bruises on her feet
when she feels
the defeat
of a world that promised to be
kind
but left grief
for her to find
she looks up
to the sky
spots the rope
stretches her fingers for the noose
puts it to good use
she wraps her palms around the hemp
hell-bent on descent
she pulls hard and finds
across her palm, an open wound
a future scar
well now it’s done, she thinks
the grace, the dainty steps,
the effortlessness
has had time in the spotlight
she yanks the top until the loop
hangs just beneath her toes
pulls her pointe shoes
into the hole
and off, into the air she goes
here, in the breath
of earth
she swirls, and spins
and finally breathes out
her voice, once mute
not heard nor seen
now prepares to shout
exclaim in delightful surprise
of the chaos unfolding
before her eyes
once
a pair of shoes
she was not sure
if she could hold
now slotted in the curve
of a noose
put to good use
flying, defying
every day she spent trying
to be quiet
and as she
leaps
lands perfectly on-form
applauds herself a storm
a perfect pirouette
calloused fingers, pulling
sweaty hair
from the bun
until it all comes down
it all comes down
but she does not have it in her
to frown
a perfectly profaned
pair of pointe shoes
satin patches stained and peeling
cardboard shank, pressed thin
but feeling
in the palms of a
satisfied, gratified young lady
maybe
she was always made
to fly.
22:50pm - 06/04/26