You know what I love?
Ahhhhhh! Ah! Shhhhhhh!........Hugh!? What the canary was that!? Oh.....!
The back of the stage.
There is nothing like being back stage.
I would have to say that I love being back stage more then I love being on stage.
I love to wait-
In a panic-
In a hurry-
In a listen-
In a gasp-
In a dark-
Behind pieces of wood and switches of don't you dare touch that.
I never went to camp.
But if I did,
If I had slept under unbearably hot three week Michigan star patterns, my ten year old Joe boxered knee caps hooked to the backs of my thighs in terror, in horror of too many giggles, too many secrets, kisses, compacts of flag poles, of mildews, of maple quilted powdered duties, of hidden natured scout badges of almost's, of kind of's, of don't tells, of high stakes, of this is just all that I want, don't ask me to pack---What! Was! That!!!!?
Oh, if I did.
Oh, Angela. Oh, Rayanne. Oh, my.
Just you wait, in the wings, in the still, in the calm, in the in, and the out; this is going to be amazing. This is that thick thick straight delivered line of in between life and all that has past behind veins, behind lives, behind flats, behind cracks in the light, in the ice of the play.
Skin, and Toast, and Curtains