She would pause things,
they were still-frames in her mind.
From the audience she’ll follow you
with her incandescent eyes.
The first two hands to strike applaud you.
They set off a chain reaction,
Christ, that crowd adores you.
A bold technician turns the spotlight.
Can you overthrow the banshees and
slay the critics this night?
Because they see all
and they cannot be seen.
I entered in your dioramic view
from a crawl space,
where you could not see behind.
From this lofty spot I dreamt of you,
in senescence and supine.
The other night,
when I told you what I thought of your design,
the path that you chose, deceived us all.
the other night I chose to be the only one,
the one that told you and freed us all.
But paint doesn’t come off dry.
I left it there despite.
The set’s a brilliant red,
I painted you instead