• her legs are
    saplings
    fresh in spring

    she buds
    and bears
    a toughened
    flower

    white petals
    like bells
    peal down
    her waist

    a slipper
    sheaths
    a sword
    her pointed foot

    one arm raised
    her eyes do follow
    small black things
    like grounded pepper

    second arm stiff
    but loose the same
    clasps her side
    and waits

    beneath her feet
    gears do stir
    with gentle cuffs
    they wake

    memorized steps
    to a wistful tune
    her body turning
    round a point

    until the stage
    closes in
    bends her back
    and lays her flat

    here
    she'll wait
    for an encore