I Sold My Soul to the Theater

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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





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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

golden said...
Aug. 28, 2010 at 11:57 am
Beautiful, aggressive images. It does speak passion and devotion; your poem gave me a performance in words.
 
Thesilentraven This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Aug. 25, 2010 at 4:30 pm
I love the creative descriptions and the abundant passion which which you wrote this poem. I admire such devotion to the theater and what you love.
 
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