I was just a little girl, probably around 8.
My momma took me to see ice skating.
My jaw dropped, eyes widened.
Ever since that moment happened,
I drempt about it every night.
I knew I should be a figure skater.
Gliding gently on the soft chilly ice,
My body wrapped in those thin flowing dresses.
The spotlights hitting me, reflecting off the sequins.
Bright as suddenly coming out of a dark tunnel,
Exposing yourself to light for the first time.
The fresh smell.
No matter how hard I tried,
I couldn't come up with the way the ice smelled.
So watery, rejuvenating my senses.
After a while,
My hands becoming numb with frostbite.
Pinky, tender and soft.
The tingy burn of bliss.
The soft taps of my gentle blades hitting the ice.
Or spinning 'round and 'round.
The music muttering melodies for me to follow.
Blowing a kiss to the crowd,
And watching them applaud just for me.
This is all I ever dreamed.