Pole: A Poem, Part 3

Surface cold,

Silver, spinning wonder.

Dry hand high,

Another across the chest.

Legs push off!

With exhilaration and power,

I spiral forever.

Raw, gripping emotion,

Slides off the body

The audience cheers and pauses

Breath held,

Waiting for the next move,

The next pose.

But only passion for the art

Maneuvers the human.

With my head,

Full of thoughts.

One day that’s where I’ll be

On stage where my idols have stood

And together we will glide on the silver pole.

Exotic,

Powerful,

Sexy,

Every move is power.

• Aerial
• art
• circus
• dance
• expression
• movement
• pole
• pole dancing