Simone Ghassibe, Grade 11
She was a dancer;
She clutched the eyes of the intrigued and heaved them across her stage.
They’d soften at her effortless sissonnes,
mesmerised by her melodic movement.
Accompanying a sound, she’d radiate magic out of the tips of her digits.
Concluding her chaîné turns, she’d plunge into a graceful roll
and as her side struck her floor, she’d feel a sharp tingle upon her skin,
like a hand rested upon a fevered forehead.
And yet, within this moment, she’d flash her smile of pearl,
lift her toes at a perfected point and rise onto a relevé.
A captivating tour en l’air, finishing à terre, lights-out provokes a roar.
Her pearls, now hidden, a gasp for air.
Battered up shoes, knees of amethyst’s hue.
And yet, the next day, she’d flash her smile of pearl,
lift her toes at a perfected point and rise onto a relevé,
because she was a dancer.