Dancer

Shimmery 
The purple craves for more against the grays of the sky and the blues of the frocks
Of people who don't understand purple
Radiant
The hair flashes in the wind that whips around the courtyard and whooshes the skirt up around her
In a never ending whip of slicing happiness
Glinting
The rings that encircle the ears swirl like pools of molten lava
It's not possible to see where one piece ends and the world begins
Rapture
As intakes of breath sound when the heels click down onto the pavement
The rush of the water of people seems to stop when her shoes slam as if calling for attention
It's not possible to describe the whirl and rush and scathing reality of the dancer
When her skirt flys up and left and everywhere and the people seem to call for more,
For more,
For more.