Word Vomit cut short & dressed in Pink Lace
I miss dancing in France.
I miss feeling like I had meaning.
I loved the music
I loved the movement
I loved being able to express myself without speaking.
Most of all
I miss my shoes.
When I would lace them
stand up
and the music would play
I would be someone else,
something else
other wordly even..
and I would love it.
I miss instruction
I miss entertaining
I miss pleasing
and I miss the feeling.
So here I go
nostalgic for French ballet instructors
and the sound of the wood in my pointes hitting the floor,
I leave you with these.
I miss feeling like I had meaning.
I loved the music
I loved the movement
I loved being able to express myself without speaking.
Most of all
I miss my shoes.
When I would lace them
stand up
and the music would play
I would be someone else,
something else
other wordly even..
and I would love it.
I miss instruction
I miss entertaining
I miss pleasing
and I miss the feeling.
So here I go
nostalgic for French ballet instructors
and the sound of the wood in my pointes hitting the floor,
I leave you with these.
5 Comments:
Hey Ischelle,
Another interesting poem. It reminded me of my dance lessons in childhood. This is my favorite line-
nostalgic for French ballet instructors.
Have a great day! Bye for now.
SMP
Thank you SMP for your comments.
thats beautiful!
ps: looking forward to your clothes :)
Your welcome, Ischelle. I enjoy reading your work.
i can only share with you this epic silence...beautiful words ischelle
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