She lifts her leg like a lit candle in a cathedral of trees, letting the forest read its own desire in the tremor of her balance.
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She lifts her leg like a lit candle in a cathedral of trees, letting the forest read its own desire in the tremor of her balance.
Common Kingfisher
by derrickwong
Beautiful Tia Sandman with the University of Utah Photo by fabulous Beau Pearson @beaupearsonphotography @siatandman #balletinspiration #balletbeautifulgirls #dreamdancer840 #worldwideballet #worldbslletproject #lifeofadancer #mylifeonpointe #balletphotography #beaupearson #beautifulpose #loveofballet #instagramfordancers #ballerinasofig #regrann
Her ponytail writes a slow comma, the mirror replies in softer strokes; two bodies negotiate a single breath, and the floor takes notes in callused script.
Legs parted like the pages of a grimoire no spellbook ever confessed; arms self-possessive, she contemplates: redefine the arabesque in the language of ache.
In this fleeting intersection of flesh and stone, the soul extends its silent, desperate plea, a penchée into the abyss of what has not yet been danced.
She offers the attitude like a locked diary held open by force, eyes whispering: read me, ruin me, but never pretend you understood.
Her silhouette is a question hung in the frame, elegance poured upward until the ceiling forgets it is a limit.