Monday, February 14, 2011


The curtains hang limply,
ripped to shame
as we await our entrance.
The stage is lit
and we enter,
cued by the uproar below us
and the company
that remain blinded by the illusion.
You bow,
appearing humble and innocent
to all who stare.
Our eyes meet as you straighten
and you indulge me with a flash
of betrayal.
Your hand extends,
and with ease
you present me to the sea of blurred faces
that cry out for more;
I bow,
stiff and uncomfortable
in your presence.
The crowd grows louder, and still,
I cringe.
I glance at you,
you who applaud me,
mislead me,
abandon me.
You smirk and step backward
as bouquets are thrown at our feet,
allowing the spotlight to shine
only on me,
while the faces and hands
seem to beg for us both.
I turn once more mid-bow,
and you wink.
A rose is cast toward my presence
and catches the threads
nearest my heart.
Fade to black;