dust swirls down from

endless ceilings

canvas hanging like laundry out to

dry and

vertically they plummet

crush me beneath their majesty

but I focus on the shimmer

dust creates dreams

beneath the pools of warm light

olive greens and

romantic shades of pink

and I wait.

drowning in fabric and cheap

paint and heat and

the audience is silent and I am

invisible

only two eyes peering

out from behind the careful rubble

jagged staples

works of art

and she sings.

she sings behind the makeup and

old hats and

blinding lights

to people she will never meet nor see again but

her heart is on the stage

and I am too.

the lights dim to nothing and the floor rumbles

and I wake up from the dream