My Ballet Slippers Still Fit
Abby Parrish
My mom always told me I came into this world dancing The second I was able to move freely, I moved rhythmically To the beat of my mother’s cries, to the rhythm of the hospital monitor I moved freely and I moved rhythmically I couldn’t walk, but I could still dance I moved my arms in motions through the air Creating images in my head that I wished to express but could not say I moved expressively and I moved longingly In our little Hong Kong apartment, Mambo Number 5 booming out of the speaker Twirling throughout the living room, finally able to move my feet Tapping and pirouetting and stomping and galloping I moved loudly and I moved joyously My sister and I choreographed combinations We made up dance moves, some that nobody had ever seen before Falling to the ground after attempting jumps and turns We moved creatively and we moved without fear
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