Nikki XLXIII

She gazed,

strands of hair twirling between fingers,

scissors flicking

in between raindrops

on glass windows.

Shoulders relaxed,

breathing deeply,

She’s drifting.

Lost in the ballet twirl of blades and hair.

Drops of blood trickling down,

splashing on cold tiles.

She’s gazing at the scar on her left hand.

She’s smiling for the love of the Ballet.