Point them; flex them;

Point them; flex them;

Put them in your

Lap, lap, lap.

She was my mentor

My first teacher

My friend.

Fifteen years

I knew her.

Or did I?

First tap,

then jazz,

ballet was short.

Then I met her again

in modern.

This was the last time

she would be my friend.

Gradually,

she would become my enemy.

I would see her now and again

each time, getting more and more

fire up and down my veins.

Until one day,

the last day,

that was it.

A simple hello

sent tears rushing

down my face.

Never has a simple

greeting been more empty.

Never have your words stung so deep.

Never will they again.