The Mime

I think sometimes we take for granted the people that love us unconditionally. Love is a complicated concept. Sometimes we find ourselves in situations where we love someone we shouldn't when there's someone waiting patiently on the sidelines just waiting to be noticed for all their acts of kindness and courting. This next poem is about noticing that other person--the one who shouts "pick me!" and the one who sweeps up the mess made by another lover.

You keep quiet

Watching me struggle daily

Your hands do all of the talking

There's a silent war going on between us

But you let me win because you're afraid of

What you'll lose

How do you manage to stay so patient?

How do you mimic a doctor and treat me

When I am so ill?

How do you create an invisible box to

Protect me, shelter me, keep me?

The life of a mime is lonely, you say

Watching me love another when you scream

With your eyes to choose you

I know if love destroys me and ends my world

You would simply conjure up another for me

With those hands of yours--magic hands

You've got a rope tied around me

In case the moon distracts me

And I wander off as I tend to do

How do you manage to stay so still?

How do you mimic a statue and wait for me

To paint you with marbled memories

How do you paint your face to

Hide from me, conceal from me, keep from me?

The life of a mime is rough, you say

Watching me fall apart when all you have

Are intangible band-aids and cheap tricks to distract me

This last stanza is my favorite. The Mime's role is to make the narrator happy, despite the fact that they may never truly be enough for them.