Almost seduced

Almost seduced

Almost believed

Almost consented

Almost agreed

To all of your dreams

To all of your pleas

To all of your ways

To all of your deeds

Forgot my own way

Gave up on my dreams

Sold out my soul

As strange as that seems.

 

 

 

Fallen Swan

Like an apple on toothpicks,
the elderly ballerina
tiptoes across the yard.

Finding the pond,
she asks
the dark waters
for their old reflections.

Like a duck,
she submerges her head,
draining away
the makeup
and the years.

Emerging as swan,
she swims the shadows—
Echappe, pas ballonne, glissade.

Remembering
across the years,
across the algean floor,
freeing dreams
of Barishnikov.