The sheen, untouched
Pristine but waiting
Like it wants me to break the tension, make my marks
Like it's calling me
The crowd is quiet and there's something serene yet sinister about being the first
Glassy, glossy, carved into by my blades
Chunks flying, the quiet satisfying sounds of a beginning
I take my place in the center, the claps roar and echo
My music starts and my routine begins
My feet create trails, a visual reminder of my moves right as I make them
A shadow, as if someone follows right behind me
I jump and spin and twist and careen
It guides me, I land with ease, almost like it's catching me in its arms
Cold and hard, just as I knew it would be, right where I knew it'd be
Holding me up with strength, showing me off with elegance
It dances with me, we weave a delicate web
My final pose, an adoring ovation
I'm hardly even breathless
An effortless performance
Smooth like the ice
About the Creator
Raine Neal
Just trying to make it through the days - writing is a great way to stay distracted and refreshed.
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Comments (2)
This poem itself felt like a dance.
Like the way you structured the sheen & pristine without following a couplet rhyme scheme/anything of the sort. I love internal rhyme & everything similar