Tag: instamatic poems
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The Second Before
There’s a second,just one,when the lights go downand the theatre tenses.The chatter folds,the velvet breathes,and I sit in the darknot as a person,but as a pause. Alone,not lonely;just suspended,like a held notebefore the overture dares to begin. In that second,I am every audiencethat ever waitedto be moved. Then the music starts,and the worldremembers how to…
Weather In My Ribs 