The Dying Swan Poem by Maria Mitea

on that day
she performed the dance
in a mortal silence

lustful intensity,

the unusual
exit with the back
was hiding her face
without any wave of hope,
the eyes
where
seeking consolation,
her spine
became alive
like a tempting serpent,
arms
were wavy wings
a cry for help,
legs outstretched
like two cello strings
rising
under the guidance
of internal forces,

the pirouettes
faked
with a great talent
the lack of courage,
as a sacrifice brought to the air
she kept doing
dozens of rotations
as if
the body
was anointed
with the dark air,

then,

it fell into its arms
like a wet coat,

every movement
spoke
again and again
'I love you
and
I hate you',

sun rays
died
in a light
that bowed obediently
under the
the public eyes
riveted
like a forest
of frozen trees,
waiting for
what's next

***

Tribute to one of the best world"s ballerinas
Maya Plitseskaya.