She dances on time.

Tiptoes over the two

And leaps over the three,

A ticking rendezvous

Of everything she once knew

And everything she could be,

A timeless rhythm lingering

For the girl that could not speak.

Her body in motion,

Though her mouth remained closed.

The words danced on her lips

And straight to her toes.

She never wondered what it

Was like to whisper a sound.

She feared no one would listen.

They yelled, "June, take a bow!"

So on a clock she remains

Until the ticking will cease.

She'll tiptoe over the two

To avoid tripping on three.