The lights are fixed. The script runs clean.
I was carved for weight and staying still.
The cast performs behind the sheen.
Not for dust, but for a will.
The curtain sways, rehearsed and tight,
They placed me where the centre holds,
but something stirs beyond the light.
never asked what silence folds.
A chair sits centre, blind to name,
They come in voices, leave in air,
the actors move, but not the flame.
not one of them becomes the prayer.
Applause returns, the exits gleam,
I've held more pause than lines contain,
but something haunts the held unseen.
a role untouched, a shape of strain.
And night by night, this body plays
No spine has met the curve I keep.
around the part that never stays.
I wait, not dreaming. Not asleep.