Cut-outs photos genuinely
I myself in my memory
the applause and the sweat
the dancer that I was

lithe long muscles
a flying warrior maid
of beauty, of flesh
and blood, from childhood

in a porter's shirt
exercised daily
and stored
in every cell and the world

kept on turning, carelessly writing
off my fame as one of many
multiversal time fragments –
real but insignificant