Big Mirrors
I was dancing in the great room, the room with the fancy windows. The one that echoed when you talked and had wide-open wood floors to run on. I had told myself this was my home studio. That I would get a barre and put it on the empty wall and some mirrors too. The big mirrors. The one that showed your every flaw but also your greatest strengths. I love those mirrors. My turns don’t look good. My leg doesn’t stay high enough, when I spin it wavers and then fall toward my ankle. I don’t know why it does that; maybe it’s mad that I didn’t stretch it yesterday. I don’t know. All I know is I want my leg to stay up during turns. Again and again and again. How does my foot go again? Does it go behind my knee? Or in front? I spot the window, the last and the first thing I see. When I spot a lot, at night the image of the window creeps into my dreams. My eyes are dizzy now, but I have to keep turning. Around and around. My pique turns are good. They are the easiest; they have a teeny bit of room to not be perfect. It’s a surprise, because in ballet you have to be perfect. I was dancing in the great room, the room with the fancy windows.
I was dancing in the great room, the room with the fancy windows. The one that echoed when you talked and had wide-open wood floors to run on. I had told myself this was my home studio. That I would get a barre and put it on the empty wall and some mirrors too. The big mirrors. The one that showed your every flaw but also your greatest strengths. I love those mirrors. My turns don’t look good. My leg doesn’t stay high enough, when I spin it wavers and then fall toward my ankle. I don’t know why it does that; maybe it’s mad that I didn’t stretch it yesterday. I don’t know. All I know is I want my leg to stay up during turns. Again and again and again. How does my foot go again? Does it go behind my knee? Or in front? I spot the window, the last and the first thing I see. When I spot a lot, at night the image of the window creeps into my dreams. My eyes are dizzy now, but I have to keep turning. Around and around. My pique turns are good. They are the easiest; they have a teeny bit of room to not be perfect. It’s a surprise, because in ballet you have to be perfect. I was dancing in the great room, the room with the fancy windows.
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