Black Swan
we are going
we are moving
the centre
believes it has the answer
the knife at the
centre of the dancer
it is moving
the engine
surges
pistons clacking
the girl is
still
at the centre of
her world
the lights of
the auditorium
grow intense
as she fingers
the keys
of her cell
the piano plays
the dancer
dances
despite the
knife
at her centre
we sit in wonder
the engine
surges
chairs move
forward
the dancer drops
to her knees
seeking the
light
dropping the
keys
fumbling in the
darkness
we move ahead
the pistons
clatter
the ballet on
fire
the girl stares
from the centre
of her world
the knife is
covered
with sun
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