She flitted about the stage. The telltale start of a tear drop
was forming in her left eye. She hid it well.
She looked out into the crowd. The auditorium was
dark, it was full.
She loved to feed off the emotions of the crowd
because she was devoid of any. The crowd sustained her.
The applause is what she lived for.
There was a blackness in her,
and the emptiness remained no matter how many smiles
she painted on her face. Her uncle had seen to that.
She wondered what it was about her that caused him to
Did she invite him in?
Should she have said no even though she felt yes; is that
why she remained silent?
Can she dance away his sins?
Did her silent acquiescence mar her soul as well?
All of these questions bounced around her head
with each twist of her hips like so many playground balls
caught in a whirlwind of air.
So she flitted, and she danced,
The sun was glinting off the hardware
and she hoped perchance
that the adulation would salve the hole in her heart.
Instead I heard sniggering and embarrassed
Still we wrestled on, like two lovers
twirling around the dance floor. “Poor,
I heard some woman whisper to her
friend as we two-stepped in front of her.
store’s front window
and I could see our reflection in the broad
There I was, dancing with myself.