over the weekend, we spent one glorious afternoon at the ballet. my dad and christy ever so generously gifted me tickets to the sleeping beauty for my birthday and for weeks i have had this date circled on the calendar, twitterpated.
my taffeta and lace, his leather and wool, strolling to lincoln center, hand-in-his, enchantment, scene after fantastical scene...like a rose-colored dream, like being in paris, like sitting front row to a scene ribboning from the tip of a brush in the hand of degas.
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