feeler/dancer
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.