Cold air brushes on my skin
the room feels empty, a barren land
New, matte floor smells of fresh laid marley
decorated with pastel pink marks from many shoes.
My hand rests softly on the lacquered wooden barre,
blinded by the crisp sunlight shining through the uncovered window.
Classically trained bodies
move along to the classical melodies.
Focused on each detail, from the bottom of my feet to the tips of my fingers
performing each count of eight with powerful emotion.
Refreshing ice water cools my body
during a much needed break.
Hard work and pain
the feelings and accomplishments from years of practice.
The temperature of the studio increases
as every moment passes
The hour comes, class ends, the sun sets
and studio two is empty again
Until dawn tomorrow.