We can see the discipline in her—it absorbs
Morphs into her legs, crawls up her thighs to her torso
Spreads across her brow and out to her temples
Coils itself tight on her head
With every sudden movement.
Her mind, her body is awoken by the music
Operates as one in proportional contortions.
The calm façade disguises hidden manic
A stable precision echoes through her bones
With every sudden movement.
We are enamoured of the crisp, the clean, the controlled,
Seeing things that are stark
While looking down on the chaos that daunts us.
She makes art with her emotions, painting her feelings
Across the floor and into the air.
The atmosphere saturated and heavy
With her innermost truths released.
Her movements are her language.
She uses her body to tell us her story.
With each careful glance of her eyes, we read a new page
We feel a climax as her movements sharpen
A warm reassurance as they soften.
Every movement changes us.
One thing is now quite clear—this is not just a dance.
It is a true expression of things she cannot say.
It is letting go of anger. It is accepting pain. It is feeling beautiful joy.
It is being consumed by love, sharing it with the world
Without feeling shame or judgement that she is not strong.
It is feeling vulnerable. It is honest passion. It is true sensitivity.
This is her outlet, where she can be a woman
Stripped down to her most exposed self
She shows us real beauty.
With every movement.
Olivia Hunt is in eleventh grade at Downingtown East High School. She is an avid writer and aspires to study screenwriting. Her dream is to write her own television sitcom, or to become a writer on Saturday Night Live. Olivia loves live music and concerts, going to the coffee shop down the street to write, and soaking up every beautiful moment of life.