By Alena Thalput
The opening notes of “Chasing Cars” hit the air
Filling the shelves stacked high with musty books
An almost empty fish tank
And the hollow innings of wires sprung around the Spotless room.
A singular spotlight hits her face, Closing her eyes
Letting it melt her
As if it were the sun.
She tries a lonely pirouette,
Hesitating as her footsteps pass below her.
Resting her head on air particles, Swinging an imaginary partner
While caressing every note.
Movements mirroring endless hours Of professional dancers, T
rapped in her mind
By the gentle padding of their video footstep.
Her body moves more in her mind Than reality
Breathless in every tread That hits the ground.
She feels each note pass between
Her mind and her body Connecting all she loves In one simple beat.