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Mar 2013
Of course there is applause, a split second before our hands come together we breathe out the sighs we’ve been holding in all day. We hoot and holler with the bystanders for the people on the stage, and of course there is a flickering. The lights dim, and they are gone, and of course someone whispers your name in admiration. Of course there is this longing in me to be with you because there is no doubt you are sensational but of course I keep myself quiet and step away from the line of fire. And of course there is the catcalls the jeering the leering in front of me from that skirt and that eyelash and that painted fingernail towards your person. Of course, there is a moment where I consider you and wonder what if? Then, why? Why your hair, the cut of your chin, your eyes, your stance, and your mouth? Why, you? Of course there is this heat, and then another split second where in the midst of clapping our eyes meet and we bind but of course I look away and place my hands, folded, on my lap.
Michelle Ang
Written by
Michelle Ang  New York, New York
(New York, New York)   
472
 
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