Thumbs wiggling on east wing, backstage
lines skipped like a broken record
with trails of script on hand, sweat poured,
pale rose-in-waiting was I on moist page
Theater brimmed as crowds filled seats, agaped
bright spotlights roamed, my eyes rehearsed the words;
thumbs wiggling on east wing, backstage
lines skipped like a broken record
Panting fast, I tucked wired nerves in head's...
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