I have danced on the strings
Of another's desires;
I have pirouetted gracefully
To the swaying pull,
To the sudden release
From above,
But never from love.

I have stumbled and bumbled
In another's uncertainty;
Then, behind a painted smile,
Straightened and bowed,
On invisible strings
To an admiring crowd.

I have hung on the back
Of a dressing room door,
Strings looped carefully
Up on a hook, waiting alone
In suspense...
In the dark.