She dances across the stage of the forgotten theater. Dusty chandeliers and drapes laced with cobwebs surround her. Ancient floorboards creak as she sweeps over them, her feet design pictures in the dirt. Her delicate arms paint pictures in the frigid air as her lips form words, “En pointe….en pointe”
Moving along with the ballads in the night, she extends her legs pushing out her dream that one day someone might ask her name. She gracefully haunts the grand staircases and walks down the faded crimson carpet, her eyes still carrying hopes of stardom she will never reach.
Crystals hang from the broken chandeliers and brief shimmers glow through the layers of dust that has gathered over years of forgotten memories and shattered dreams.
Her long lashes kiss her elegant cheekbones as she bows to her imaginary audience which turns spiders and beetles into nobles and kings.
An elegant pirouette executed with precision, a graceful porcelain like hand extends showing its fragile strength.
Dust stars swirl in the air that smells of musty books and collapsing wood, but still the stage is her castle. Transformations of the imagination occur as the dark theater glows in shimmering candlelight.
A delicate smile curves across her frosted lips that breathe tiny clouds of frozen air, exhaling dedication.
Ivory keys lie dormant in the mahogany arms of the silent piano. Still, there is music resonating in the silence that fills the room with concertos and wanting to live again melodies, that she dances to.
The final step, a gracious bow with arms outstretched to receive applause. The kings and nobles parade across the stage on spindly legs pause to acknowledge the presence of the beautiful dancer.
The air stills once more…..the performance is over.