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.)


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