just pain

"I watch my daughter now dancing to classical Russian music, standing on her toes, circling objects and allowing them to enter her circle, inhaling and exhaling, flying and falling, clinging to her partner, who lifts her up, her thighs sticking to his as if they were the poles of a magnet. He reaches for her curly black hair, unties its pink ribbon and releases it. With a thin stick, preventing the ribbon from falling to the ground and without disrupting the rhythm of the dance, she attache...