Hair spray fumes plume
in the air, collecting in my lungs
in my hair
pulled tight
As I chance a glance
one last time in the glass
Lengths of ribbon encircle
ankles strengthened across years,
and streams of sweat,
rivulets
across my back,
along my face,
salting the air
And I turn and then learn, and I turn yet again
yearning to glide on the soft satin box
around and around and around
And I achieve a third
but it’s not enough
so I go again and again
One more time, one more uncertain glide
As my body flips, a playing card with sharp motion
and I slow and roll down
One more time, one more time, but it’s never just once more
I won’t stop
until it is perfect.