2018 The Stephen Schwartz Prize in Poetry

 

 

Every night, the lights

Illuminate and shine

Off of the runway, catching

The sequins on my cobalt blue, skin-tight dress.

Each piece reflects, beaming back into the dark,

Like individual stars

Creating a magnificent constellation.

My heart pumps ecstasy when the audience roars my name.

 

Then the spotlights dim,

                One

                               By

                                            One

And the stars die out.

 

Every night, I stare at the woman

Looking back at me in the mirror.

Her beauty, her glamour, her allure.

With two hands, I slide her red hair off

And I am left holding a wig.

Grabbing the corners of each eye, I tug off her lashes–

First the left, then the right–

And I set down the two lush, black, illusions.

 

With a cool cotton cloth, I wipe off her painted face.

The makeup disintegrates and melts away.

The greys and golds shed off with such

A simple touch.

Suddenly, I look

Ordinary.

 

Every night, I tear my mask off

And I can fade back into anonymity.

With my mask on,

I am the brightest comet against a black sky

 

And all the world’s eyes gaze upon me.

I look up.

In the mirror, staring back at me

Is just a typical man