Pas de Deux

Something has always struck me as slightly odd about these supposed love duets of dance, especially the traditional ones in which the partners take turns alone on stage and stop for applause and bows.

             Pas de Deux

The ballerina’s beauty comes first,
her partner content to present,
admire, support – pointing toward her
as if she were a game show prize,
offering her a hand in her arabesque,
spinning her slender waist as she
turns, lifting her with as little
apparent effort as possible

so she seems weightless -  

like grace and form and motion.

Then comes the competition
as each takes the stage alone,
supposedly showing off to impress
their absent lover, but actually
trying to outdo each other
and win the audience’s heart:
he, leaping like he’s on another
smaller planet; she, spinning beyond
dizziness until they force
the crowd to clap and are loved
enough to come together again
for a final swirl and pose
and one too many bows
in the fading light.