The Ballerina Bows
to her own reflection, the lone
piece she cannot master. No twirling,
no turning, no launching into arms assumed
to be there. Nothing carried her here. Just the quiet face
of an empty studio surrounds her. It is indifferent to pain,
has seen it before in many forms. No
makeup, no camouflage, no costumes distract the glass.
as she swallows her weaknesses like razor blades. She waits,
watches closer to see if they will find a way to cut
their way back out.
A.J. Huffman’s poetry, fiction, haiku, and photography have appeared in hundreds of national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, and Offerta Speciale, in which her work appeared in both English and Italian translation. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. www.kindofahurricanepress.com