First-Act Curtain

As I grew older, I began to feel a different, yet familiar, emotion in the same part of my heart – experiencing something so real but wondrous you feel as if you’re in a dream’@christinemaricomics


When I am there,
when I feel every spark and crackle against my
 heartbeat,

I don’t feel like dreaming.
I feel I am in a movie:

each longing gaze, a spotlight,
– a ray of sun on the veranda,
each wistful sigh, a camera,
– a teasing glance at the table,
every gasp, a perfectly angled frame,
– a moon-lit walk into the city’s muted midnight.

the audience fastens their eyelids to the screen,
and they cannot stop watching,
the edges are so clean,
drawn so bewitchingly,
that I too am spellbound.

But,
only they can see the spell coming to its end,
only they can see the curtains beginning to fall,
with its deceptive velvet luxury,
its heavy and unforgiving hand,

and so,
when I am there,
when I feel every spark and crackle against my heartbeat,
i, too, feel the curtains
grab my heart,
turn it purple,
and draw it down,

ending the show too early.

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