The dancer’s fearless leaps can be heard in the puddles of her own light during fading spirits; soaring above her own stage, her audience, and her moments. She slips, finding herself helpless on the cold wooden floor, the lights still glaring, the rhythm locked at a pace of zero. She expects criticism to arrive in a pack of wild dogs from the edge of the stage but she can only hear her own voice yelling, yearning to leap again. Reaching an arm out above her head, she can feel her faith rising although it cannot be seen, like the air she basks in. Her whole body is now distant from the floor she leaps off, her feet feeling faint from her insecurities as though she will never find herself there again.
The audience cheers, an encore.
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