June 5, 2008
By Danielle Fitch, Crestwood, KY

With the flick of my fingers
Death dances about in
Bright orange and blue
Twisting, turning.

The dancers make their
Way to the floor
Engulfing it.

They grow greater until
I can feel their hands grab
At my ankles and
Gracefully continue to grow.

I find myself paralyzed
Hypnotized by the performance
The agony and peril exhilarating

The dancers move about me
Their grey breath suffocating me
They leap across they walls
Landing with a sharp snap

Their partners, the wood
Falling rapidly
People are screaming
Cheering for the dancers
Climbing about them.

When abruptly I find
Myself in a place
Where I can watch the dancers

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