More images for a personal odyssey, and poem promised -
Ballerina
In the cold I light up,
Feeling bitter glow and stinging of warmth in the mouth,
Hands shaking slightly in the contrast of outside to in.
My shoulder blades bare lean into rough brick, a moment -
I can feel them grazing slightly as I breath deep
The scent of sweat and cigarette.
I am stretching my legs, just a moment -
But back through the door to the slowness
Of movement, purity and rousing sound,
To saying nothing at all.
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