First
You sew them
Prick yourself with bloody needles
Twitch the ribbon to the left
Tighten the elastic just a hair
Until the blushing satin
Winces as you wrap the slipper around a deformed lump
You once called it a foot, jokingly

Then
Break the device to pieces
Unlocking doors from jambs is no longer necessary,
Thank you anyway Mr. Whitman
Doors themselves flee
At the sight of a sparkling new slipper
Slip the shoe inside the crack
Open, close, open, close
Until you can work your thumb down the arch
Careful, careful! You broke your finger
You don’t want crimson beads to ruin your shoe

Next
You dance
First blisters as the shoes transform
From lovely Angelina Ballerina toys
Into souvenirs of sweat, determination, and tears
Work them to pieces
Smile as they tarnish
Feel the floor and rebel against its rule
Through the gateway of a slipper
Pirouette along
Swearing as you fall down, again, again

Then
The glorious moment
When you hold your piece de resistance, your masterpiece
To the light
And stroke the days-weeks-months of pain in the making
These shoes know you now
The monster has been tamed
At your command they carry you across the floor
But it feels just like flying

Everything has a sell-by date
Pointe shoes are no exception
Snap crackle and pop
They crumple under motion
Ankles wobble
Feet fly
Long-callused blisters reappear with new friends:
Marbled blue toenails
You mourn the loss of your friend, your companion
“My lucky pair is gone!”
And bring out the needle and thread
A static dancer is a lost dancer
Molt out of pointe shoes
Into new spirals of fierce, prideful, finite joy