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Through Your Lens – In memory of Craig Elliott Jr. 1960-2011
In the still early morning of yet another night bereft of sleep I see myself as you looked at me through your lens That individual moment you captured I was unaware My minds memory recalled the smooth grained sand cooled by the gently bubbling minuscule waves that my aching toes and heels delighted in The…
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I Spend Time With You
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You Are My Spring
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At The Stone
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Unanswered Questions
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Unspoken Memories
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Split In Half
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Walking Away
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La Mélodie Dangereuse
La Mélodie Dangereuse Lilting melodies that mesmerize me enter inside my core sensuously stroking This…his haunting music does to me I can not resist the lilting tones like silken cords that wrap themselves around me binding me to him pulling me into his world he creates and I move at his will playing me teasing…
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My Precious Pearls
When my mother was 5 years old George Balanchine saw her dance and saw her beauty and natural talent. He approached my grandmother and offered a full scholarship to The School of American Ballet that he had just founded with Lincoln Kirstein. My grandmother’s reply was a resounding no because in quotes “ballerinas and actresses…