Twirl and Hold

The floor is cold. The sound is low. A bare stage

waiting for the flow. We start with stillness, breath held tight.

Then one small shift into the light. Forget the measure. Forget the beat.

Just arch the spine and lift the feet. A tension point,

a silent dare. A story written in the air. It's a twirl and hold,

a sudden stop. A heart that freezes at the drop. A centrifugal dizzy

rush. Before the quiet reverent hush. We break the form

and then reset. The hardest move is holding it. Found in the balance