As I run up the trail to the bay,
I push away the thoughts of the city,
swimming in purples, pinks and nostalgia.
The city gleams in its counterculture and sexual tolerance,
but my kind does not belong.
I'm only here to bring a script to life,
to create a reality from lights and sounds.
One will sing, the other dance
as a green glow mottles their sweaty chocolate skin
while I watch from the back.
My legs push me up the trail, and I
see the gray water, whitecaps waving to me.
They mock my monochrome thought processes.
Wind wicks strands of hair from my damp ponytail,
swirling around my eyes and ears.
The wind slaps the wayward tendrils to my face,
so I tuck them behind my ears, but
the wind whispers only to me. You can only keep their secret for so long.
I nod, but no one notices.
Time to turn around and retreat to the hotel.
Will there be paparazzi waiting at my door?
What if they already found out?
I've held this love at bay for two years.
Now, it's time to let go.
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