Where Imagination Roams

I.
The halls of the chateau ring
if you can call the heavens, a hall.
Choreography as meticulously planned
as it is effortlessly performed.
Costumes originating in
caffeine bursts of inspiration.
Scenes change in an instant
when we barely feel the absence of light.

II.
Curling up in my green plastic chair
oblivious to the stickiness of summer;
minute mosquitoes swarming, on the attack.
My soul is part of the boy who holds
the dying girl in his arms,
or the magnificent opera diva
who has fallen in love with
the eyes behind the mask.