Open Poetry #49 |
Final Fitting |
Mistletoe Angel
since 2000-12-17
Posts 32816Portland, Oregon |
Final Fitting By: Noah Hibiscus Eaton 8/16/14 . . . The first step was my hardest, summoning the will, to crawl out of the closet... ...recalling who I am, and where I'm going, and how I'm feeling in this moment... ...covering my shoes, with masking tape... so they wouldn't slip, the first time I found the stage... I can still feel the goosebumps, the first time I hit the runway... . . . It's about throwing your shoulders back, and pushing your hips forward, and placing the ball of your foot down first, here's to safety pins, eyebrow pencils, and all the time that you rehearse, how it feels so exhilarating, to have the crowd's breath taken, and your heart is racing, as though time is stopping... ...but you keep walking... ...like it's your final fitting... . . . I choose my wardrobe, like I choose my thoughts, even when there's nothing here, for who I'm supposed to be today... ...said, “You make it worth your while, as long as people stare,” even if the minutes ain't all, tulle, fritters and glitter off the stage... ...where we tear tendons, hair gets frazzled, and we squint off tears, after already applying our makeup, while still making it to the curtain call... . . . ...and you keep throwing your shoulder back, and pushing your hips forward, and placing the ball of your foot down first, here's to lettuce hems, and epaulets, and all the time that you rehearse, how it feels so exhilarating, to have the crowd's breath taken, and your heart is racing, as though time is stopping... ...but you keep walking... ...like it's your final fitting... . . . ...but underneath all the eyeliner, and behind the highlighter, if my heart had only one thought, what I especially desire, are the moments between, the castings and the fittings, and on days where my closet, is full of empty clothes hangers, I dream I'm where you are, standing on a strip of white tape... ...ready to take the stage... . . . ...and we go throwing our shoulders back, pushing our hips forward, and pivoting on the edge of the catwalk, here's to playful backtalk, and that “Charlie's Angels” pose, by the paparazzi backdrop, here's to those tears from exhaustion, memories never forgotten, and the laughter, that lights up the after-parties... ...it's about throwing our shoulders back, pushing our hips forward, and pivoting on the edge of the catwalk, here's to hugs and elbow bumpin', from behind the curtain, and nights you pay no mind to the clock, and after we call it a night, I find my heart sometimes, aching as though, this might be my last coming... . . . ...then you reassure me... . ...this is not your final fitting... . . . ...it won't be your final fitting... . . . ...this won't be our final fitting... . . . "If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other" Mother Teresa |
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© Copyright 2014 Nadia Lockheart - All Rights Reserved | |||
latearrival Member Ascendant
since 2003-03-21
Posts 5499Florida |
Enjoying your passion for the runway. Jo |
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suthern
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723Louisiana |
Perseverance... no matter what. I love the hope the ending gives! |
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BluesSerenade Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549By the Seaside |
Loved this Noah. Your poem is freeing and honest and dreamy if you will. Expressive poetry...well done good poet. |
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miscellanea Member Elite
since 2004-06-24
Posts 4060OH |
Noah, Since 2004, I have enjoyed your honest, creative and expressive poetry. This is probably my favorite. Great job! Miscellanea |
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