Her feet arched like curved blade,
her finger tips brushed through the air soft as silk,
her legs lifted her into the air with the grace of a breeze.
The other dancers flitted around her,
same colored dresses-
synchronized detailed moves.
But the other girls dresses were simply cotton,
her’s was a delicate velvet.
The other girls movements were creaks and rivers,
her’s were entire oceans.
I saw only her.
Her eyes bright with excitement
color,
and joy.
Her body light as a cloud,
floating across the stage,
her face expressive as the brightest light.
I wanted to touch her,
feel her,
hear her voice.
It must sound like clear crystal bells.
Her lips the perfect soft strawberry shade.
her spins a whirl wind,
Her leaps a title wave.
I lust to burry my face in her golden hair.
But do you think if she were to read this,
she would hear it with a man’s voice?
What would she think if it were a women’s?