And I Dance

I remember

The pinching of my pointe shoes

As I mark out my routine

To distract myself from the children

Crying because they miss their mothers

I nervously lick my lips,

Tasting my own red lipstick -

As red as summer's ripe raspberries -

And I block out the hushed whispers

Of those trying not to be heard from upstairs

I remember

The stabbing of my hairpins

And the rock-hardness of my hair;

The sickly smell of hairspray

Reminds me of where I am.

The applause is a roar of thunder

When the music comes to an end;

The children in the next act line up

To have their costumes rechecked

My reflection in the mirror reminds me that it is almost my turn

I remember

The itching of the tulle

On my skirt - black as night -

It's almost too late, but I realise

That my ribbons are tied in the wrong position,

Which will make it painful to dance.

But the lights that hit the stage beckon

Before dimming to make us all blind

And I take my position in the centre of the stage

And I dance.