She flies around the stage, train shimmering behind her.
She lands perfectly in the center.
I lament my grounded ugliness,
Not thinking of caked on make-up,
The pull of wires,
The million thoughts racing through her head: keepthetrainuntangled where’sthemark isthatmyexintheaudience cantheyseemesweat.
When I remember I can only wonder
If there is anyone who believes I can fly.
(I finally set up a google calender today and thought: Oh! This is how people make appointments and get to place on time! I thought they were just better people than me.)