"Life and Pandemic" - Spring 2020

a graceful body is never kind—
i remember this as my neck strains
to form a perfect arch,
Swansong
locked limbs desperately imitating the
effortless glide of a bird in flight,
the girl in the mirror replicates my movements,
follows me at dusk to sway across the surface,
an oil-slicked pool frozen solid—
we wind like laurels to the beat of the
wintry breeze,
coiled serpents
poised to strike with
pretty venom—
but the spotlight transforms
the lake at night,
and winter
collapses under the strain of
intolerable heat—
the moon’s face shatters
in two.
so we twirl until
our pointe shoes turn to
tatters,
until our tendons
pop like
corks of expensive champagne,
the diamonds gleaming upon the lake’s surface
growing sharp like
glass shards beneath bloodied feet,
Amanda Hall