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RT @metatronpress: ๐•Š๐•’๐•ช ๐•™๐•–๐•๐•๐•  ๐•ฅ๐•  ๐• ๐•ฆ๐•ฃ ๐•—๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•’๐• ๐•ฃ๐•–๐•๐•–๐•’๐•ค๐•– ๐• ๐•— ๐Ÿš๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿš๐Ÿ˜... ๐•น๐–” ๐•ป๐–—๐–”๐–‡๐–‘๐–Š๐–’๐–†๐–™๐–Ž๐–ˆ๐–˜ ๐–‡๐–ž ๐–๐–Ž๐–”๐–‘๐–† ๐•ฎ๐–๐–Š๐–“ ๐”ธ๐•ง๐•’๐•š๐•๐•’๐•“๐•๐•– ๐•—๐• ๐•ฃ โ„™๐•ฃ๐•–-๐•†๐•ฃ๐••๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•Ÿ๐• ๐•จ! https://t.co/4Dwโ€ฆ
h J R
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- 12 hours ago

๐•Š๐•’๐•ช ๐•™๐•–๐•๐•๐•  ๐•ฅ๐•  ๐• ๐•ฆ๐•ฃ ๐•—๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•’๐• ๐•ฃ๐•–๐•๐•–๐•’๐•ค๐•– ๐• ๐•— ๐Ÿš๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿš๐Ÿ˜... ๐•น๐–” ๐•ป๐–—๐–”๐–‡๐–‘๐–Š๐–’๐–†๐–™๐–Ž๐–ˆ๐–˜ ๐–‡๐–ž ๐–๐–Ž๐–”๐–‘๐–† ๐•ฎ๐–๐–Š๐–“ ๐”ธ๐•ง๐•’๐•š๐•๐•’๐•“๐•๐•– ๐•—๐• ๐•ฃ โ„™๐•ฃ๐•–-๐•†๐•ฃ๐••๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•Ÿ๐• ๐•จ!โ€ฆ https://t.co/dmmgcTtQgA
h J R
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- 1 day ago

RT @theonlyelitareq: code red? more like code bed, am i right?
h J R
@metatronpress

- 1 day ago

RT @metatronpress: Look who arrived! THE NERVES is here in all sorts of delicious, inside and out ๐Ÿ’šโค๏ธ๐Ÿ’œ๐Ÿ’™ https://t.co/yb5nFJeMYk https://t.cโ€ฆ
h J R
@metatronpress

- 1 day ago

Hereโ€™s the link to watch the lovely, safe and distanced live launch of KNOT BODY by @theonlyelitareq ๐Ÿ˜ featuringโ€ฆ https://t.co/BfLZb1UWdF
h J R
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OMEGA | Rebecca Dawe
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Rebecca Dawe

26 Apr Rebecca Dawe

CHURNING BALLERINA

 

Why do I keep telling myself this story of a girl with hair so miraculous people stopped andย turned to see its ribbon trail? Who brushed it all day long, her own animal, until one day, it allย fell out. In the mirror she looks close at her pluckedยญ-chicken scalp.

The bird-ยญboned, beaten feet of ballerinas are a reminder of the working towards grace. I amย working towards grace. You tell me Iโ€™m not saved I have to tell you Iโ€™m not spent.

There is a paradise demanding my attention, so why do I thrash in the churning gut of aย noisy civilization? When I am locked in the bathroom it is quiet but I lose all sense of theย abundance of the world. I wonder what would happen if I were to smash all faces: bathroomย mirrors, clocks.

When I decided I wanted to quit dance at a young age, I hid my dance shoes all around theย house ยญ under couch cushions, in any bottom drawer, once I even buried them in the soil of aย potted plant. I dumped canned soup in the toilet to show to my mother like โ€œLook Mom, Iย threw upโ€. Now all I remember is the feeling of the beat just before the dance begins. Like aย bird on the brink of flight. Or edging. Or a woman in the black time before a dream.

You undo the ribbons of these silkened ballerina shoes and find such contortion. Itโ€™s likeย when I say “pink eye” it sounds so lovely but bacteria squirms beneath the language. Damn Iย love to lift a log to see the bugs beneath it.

But still, I used to watch my lover sleep like I was watching a ballet.

 


 

Rebeccaย Dawe is a writer based in Toronto, Ontario. Follow her on Instagram for mysterious selfies and other pleasures.

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