stage make-up it comes off with water and
patience: she's not really this pale-pretty.
the four-inch heels and black-mourning
dresses, the flowers to drown in;
all fold into a cupboard and wilt.

the books thrown re-taped, the lines word-perfect
forgotten in the rehearsals for act two.

accept the roses, let them pray a week or two,
then fade like curtains falling, blacked-out lights on a flawless
behind-eyelid image;
to a girl on a stage.
and then our faces were THIS CLOSE.

(after drama, i make mistakes too.)

-

a/n: for my hamlet. love always, ele-ophelia.