The Last Dance Alyssa Giugliano

I step out onto the stage, Adorned in the most beautiful of fabrics: White, pink, silver, gold. I was stunning.

I get into position, Air piercing through my lungs As if I had just been plunged into The deepest depths of the ocean. A pit in my stomach, And goosebumps down my spine. I never imagined the day would come When I would actually miss that feeling.

The curtains are drawn, And the lights shine down on my face. Breathe In out in out.

And suddenly I’m flying, And leaping and twirling, And moving to the music That I’ve heard a million times before.

And it feels like home.

And as I’m nearing the end of my dance I slow down begging, pleading, for time to do the same. But it doesn’t.

And as it’s time to land my final turn I remember my first dance. The excitement, the joy, The sickled feet.

I remember the posters Upon posters of ballerinas That covered the walls Of my childhood bedroom.

I remember my first pair of pointe shoes, My first medal, My first trophy, My first contract.

And as I finish my last pirouette, I can’t help but smile. What a long way I’ve come, To make it to the last dance.