Nine Eighteen

 Starlight on our cheeks
 Sparkling, shimmering, shimmying
 Just like us waiting in the wings
 Swiveling our tutu-clad hips
 To the beat of something plastic and popular
 Out onstage
 Giggling and tense, we curse at each other
 One last time in French
 Before taking our places, forgetting to exhale
 Until we hear the music
 They say the glitter just looks like sweat
 From the tenth row
 But you can see it
 From the wings

 --Emma