i just may


standing at a precipice

the edge knows me too well

from one chasm to another

to Purgatory, I once fell

but in this jump I find Paradise

tip-toeing across subway grates

it’s impossible to know

at the bottom, what awaits

looking out on rocky cliffs

toes poised, hands ready

I’m the girl who’s always prepared

her heartbeat calm and steady

flitting from one branch to the next

keeping butterflies at bay

now feels like the right time to dive

and I think I just May.

to whom it may concern

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looking for advice?

please, let me advise.

might I suggest

you prioritize?

or better yet,

just reorganize

your values

your thoughts

your should

and should not’s

your stomach

“in knots”

your “can you please stop?” ‘s

now I’m changing the locks

and cutting mine, too

and all that was once so precious to you

it’s no longer yours

so when your heart pours

do not open my doors

do not beg on my floors

don’t show your heart’s halves

cleaved to have-not’s from have’s

you know, some scars surface

and some stay inside

but next time yours itches

remember, I tried

now leave me my pride

I’m changing the tide

not one tear left to cry

so hear this now:



IMG_9221.JPGBeen a while since I felt this way about someone,
I’d really really like to know you, more,
Oh oh, know you, more

Oh, your eyes, they sing a song to me,
I’d really really like to go to it, oh, go, oh

And I will oh, open my heart
And I will oh, only for you

Only For You, Heartless Bastards

The reckoning.

A recognizing.

Recommended reintroducing.

A reentering of soul into changing body.

Changing mind, painting face.

Saving grace.

Erasing all trace.

Finding power in this space.

Hello, nice to meet you.

It’s me, we’ve met before.

But now I’m something more.

It’s hard to ignore.

The newness in us, myself and me.

Blooming into being.

Fruitful and all-seeing.

As we walk side by insides,

Rooted, yet free.

-12:14 on a Wednesday, Me, as a personal baptism begins



duck walk

Swan Lake week is here! Swan Lake week is here. Swan Lake week is here.


My legs are doing quite a bit of traveling this spring. From one doctor’s office to the next they hobble, tight and bruised and sore. But alive. So much more capable than they were before.

Last night I slept for 9 hours straight. What used to be a regular respite, a daily practice with the rotating sun, feels foreign now. Still dark bags hang under my eyes, but their load has lightened. Rain clouds crowd my bedroom windows, but their darkness does not feel daunting. I am awake now, and hanging on to this feeling in the hopes that I might be conscious enough to actually make memories this week.

This weekend we had our first 2 run throughs in under 24 hours. And we survived. And I walked home on air. Dreams are coming true.

For tickets to Swan Lake.

puddles of petals

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dripping red bikes so “JUMP”
so I do
into puddles of petals
blasting off nature’s confetti
and reigniting the celebration

I May march through a thin veil of rain
coat open it’s coating me
a darker shade of green
with every step

bloom, branch, blossom
exploding trees, creaky knees
reintroducing the birds to the bees
the green to the leaves
the warmth to the breeze
the you’s to the me’s…

swan dive

Podiatrist, massage therapist, physical therapist, psychotherapist, acupuncturist. It wouldn’t be Swan Lake without a team of -ist‘s piecing me back together each week.

This week I’m making an effort to tap into the senses of Swan Lake. Odette’s fluttering heartbeat echoing in my toes, Odile’s conniving smile spreading across my face. Hour to hour, I’m transforming from light to dark to light, stretching through suspending adagios and whipping into tricky pirouettes, all with that signature flick of the wing. Between bloody toes and bruised feet I’m savoring moments of endorpin-fueled bliss. Those moments where my body gives into the music and my shoulders twist my neck down to see my reflection in that glassy lake, exposing my hyperextended elbows and skewing my line in a way that is finally not only allowed but encouraged. I’m settling into those little releases, finding the “me” in all of this classicism. Letting the score of my favorite ballet ring loudly in my ears and push me to fly higher. I’m treasuring each bead of sweat as it carves lines down my cheeks like swan tears, trophies of the hardest work I have ever done.

Life has this way of lining things up…of putting you on a precipice and letting you lean over the edge. I’m dangling my feet, dipping a toe in. Afraid of darkness, now I’m surprised by this light. The water is warm, my heart is happy, and I think I’m ready to swan dive…so watch me.

for tickets to Swan Lake.

odette’s leitmotif

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I’m laid out on a portable table with physical therapists on either end of my body. Feeling like the Scarecrow in Emerald City as J & J pull, twist, squeeze, and bend my limbs, I let my muscles go limp and my mind wander…

…but my brain can’t help its connection to my bones. My left big toe twitches- or maybe one of the J’s tugs it- and the twinge of pain pulls me into Act II. Odette’s suspension and sadness seems so sweetly suited to me today. Her fragility and strength juxtaposing into a whirl of delicately feathered fortitude. The pinnacle of feeling most beautiful in sadness, now Odette is really singing my swan song.

A feather, like the shadow of a crushed flower, reveals its gentle spine only when it has fallen. With grace matched only by the spring petal, a feather floats on air. Buoyant elegance. Powerful subtlety. Tender sovereignty. This is my thesis. This is Odette’s leitmotif. This is the fine mingling of swan and queen.