I love her light, the one that spews from above
like locks of golden magma burning my face;
a blindness I pursue
I love the stench and constant hum of fluttering feet
suffering for months until the day
they float from cue to cue
I love the velvet, red rams that collide in to the fight
leaving the rest of the world a story to delight

I love when our spines begin swaying
an ache that doesn't disappear for days
all the ensemble in geometric array
I love when our palms are spreading and sweating
our instruments reciting, our minds igniting
in time to the overtures' boisterous display
I love leaving behind who I think I was
to a state of mind governed by different laws

I love the hostile glares between the understudies
and the no man's land known as backstage
the aura of a theater's family changes from day to day
I love how I am slave to her scuffed floors
letting her abuse my body
sacrifice my bed, no time to lay
I love when "places" is breathed on every trained lip
like a secret battle cry
that sets us gliding through the wings, this I do obey
I love it most of all when every muscle, joint, and cell sings
and the tears of passion that it suddenly, like an encore, brings