as i swirl and swirl in the dark corridor
capture the flash-like images of a girl
in her pink tutu dancing
lace with glitter, collarbone protruding
hands over head, feet right on toes
black hair in a neat bun, face with a glum
when she hits that magical step
hear the sound of the glass piece cut into her big toe
as she straightens her back and smiles radiantly
hopping gracefully all the way across the hard floor
the momentum knocks
the head of the ballet shoes stains with crimson
save for the pink shoelaces that used to bound