Natilie Portman's Black Swan (Mulitimedia Sonnet)

You start, an innocent, ignorant of time, stretching your wings, feet muffled....waiting for chorographer's smile...."Is it time yet?" Desperate, deliberate.

Envy eyes age rooting, turning the soil. Newly green, red like her lip-
stick to the script: "pucker-up doll, your mom's a pimp." Fall-out the cab
stumbling, ridiculous....

But now, taught to let go, you know siren's songs etched in skin roots-in
twisting reds that groan past Lazarus's stiff, flower phoenix

your fires engulfing, haze, bleeding glass--perfection's a stage