At The Ballet

Sitting in darkness
Waiting for dancers,
I’m alone and desperate
At the ballet.

Your husband is a rogue,
Showcasing an elegant wife
While tasting other treats
Along an avenue of illicit pastries.

But I’m the one in love,
Sinking into madness and utter despair
At the sight of you
In the theater you adore the best.

When the final curtain falls,
The lights will rise
And you’ll walk away.
I’ll gaze fondly at every footstep
Until my heart disappears.

Later, at home,
My bed will swim
In the wet intense fever
That unceasingly grips my existence.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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