Take my words and
twist them around your body,
a tutu for your naked flesh,
and spin around, your toe
grinding into my brain
as you leap
from your perfect attitude en pointe.
Ignore me--I am only the pit musician
with too many broken reeds
who, when Beauty tumbles from my lungs,
can only gasp, my fingers curving around
silver keys, watching my muse
snatched away from my soul
only to become
your dance.
