Swan Lake

a blinding flash of flurried skirt
and ruffled hair she runs at me
where i stand
watch from the shadows line of grace
back bent sweat between her blades
tendoned liquid glass fills her space
and silence when she lands

moves into my midnight black
"where's my water?" she snaps and
our hands touch for just
a second, shorter than
that

her skin is hotter than the fever i had when
i was nine and girls were still just people
not electric screaming things
as she disappears, again
into the light
to be seen.

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