Sport 35: Winter 2007
ii
ii
I step from my robe
onto the platform.
The teacher swivels lights
and talks about tonality.
As the room heats
a bead of sweat runs slowly
from an armpit down my bare breast,
a distracting tickle.
I focus on faces—
an older man with square glasses,
a slim woman with shapely lips.
At the break I walk the line
of drawings—my eyes stare back
with ten different expressions.
I accuse myself, I am wistful;
in one sketch
the emotion is elusive.