This is my Air

I can not
dance
for another
week.
Its killing
me.
The surgery
makes it
impossible.
I go to class
this morning.
Just to watch.
In the parking
lot I think
I should
quit this.
Who has time?
I am getting to
old, I have
to work twice
as hard.
In the
Dance studio
the music is
so loud.
It takes me in
and pushes me
to sit.
I feel like
I am at church.
It feels
safe.
I watch the dancers.
Leaping, spinning.
I close my eyes
and start to dance
in my head.
I have no idea
what I was thinking..
I will never get
to old for
this..
this
is
my
Air.