Actress

Act I

The stream lay
puddled on my palm,
while you drank
agape from its rim.
The movement of hair
mimed across my brow,
a lepers eyes touched
by the balm of your skin.

Act II

The looking glass looking
into you and us,
into times coming
and times gone ,
an old girl drinking
half's of black,
picking fights with ghosts
and winning, kissing boys
for bets that none pays,
still at war with wealth
still rich beyond debt,
fists clenched around
the people’s flag,
the stage creaking
under famine and fucking,
you play the dead and they
do their turns inside you,
like looking glass looking back.

Act III

But the mirror reflects
only the moments edge
while the heart pries.
Soft stigmata's left
in the two pale palettes
of your cool kabuki eyes.

John.G.Hall©2003