The love of movement holds still on her face
All fear that was there is gone with no trace
She is a picture of grace
The music takes form in her fingers and toes
Like a leaf on a river, it ebbs and it flows
Her form likes to follow wherever it goes
Capturing truth in each pose.
Logic meets love in the glow of the lights
Neither one nor the other feeling contrite
Beauty and truth, for a moment, don't fight
For a moment all things seem right
Her pointe is a pen on the audience's soul
Each punctuation soon takes its toll
Cursively writing emotions in scroll
Noting what it means to be whole
The music ends as tears fill their eyes
Even the very most stoic ones cried
They know with the dancer's bow and goodbye
They are left more alive
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