Pitch-black.

I walk across the hardwood floor

And get into position,

Heart racing and brain scrambling.

Remember, remember, remember:

Chasse, chaine, sodesha, pirouette.

The lights come on

So abrupt and so bright.

The music starts and I remember

Chasse, chaine, sodesha, pirouette.

Everyone always says

It’s comforting not to look

At the audience, but

I do anyways

Every time.

Chasse, chaine, sodesha, pirouette.

The music ends and

I pose uncomfortably.

A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead.

One, two, three, four.

The lights go dark and

I run offstage, finally satisfied with myself.

Chasse, chaine, sodesha, pirouette.