Understudy

A sweet-dream script,
left to gather dust between
toy swords and high-school poetry:
a story without a stage,
a part without an actress,
all but forgotten.

Then your touch ignites this mad epiphany,
rolls aside the dusty curtain of years—
paints its fiery halo upon my play:
how did I fail to notice, fail to recognize —
at last, I've finally found you — my Queen!

All for naught. I see, I've come too late;
auditions closed before I took the stage.
Fate has cast another man to wear
the crown that I have always meant to claim.

So now, I have retrieved my sword,
and seek to kneel before my Queen,
to beg a role within your fable.
As you direct me, I shall go,
until your quests have proved me worthy
of my place beside your table.


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Dedicated to M.M., whose friendship and compassion restored me in my own eyes.
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