You have to see her in person
When some high passion moves her.
Life puts its arms around theater
And crushes it. You cannot fake
What she does. No one could.
She doesn’t fake it. That’s why she’s so good.
No one can call it good. Applause
Would be inappropriate. Don’t grin.
You’re not at a show. No one can win.
She just is. How do you fill up the pause?
She will immediately discern you as insincere
Even before you do anything. “See you next year!”
Her performance is not just seen. It sees.
You are not in the theater. Her life
Means you are in the theater of her,
Which makes a moment to moment mockery
Of you as judge. “You should act,”
Is only greeted by her smirk. “Is that a fact?”
Praise her as talented? She’ll take it the wrong way.
Do you think she likes doing this every day?
She doesn’t. You are absolutely mesmerized.
But she hates it when you’re surprised
At how good she is. She is not a play
For you to watch. But she’s so natural
You can’t help watching. Never knowing what to do or say.
Theater as life as theater, as life, where
Does it stop? This is how you make
Artificial love. And yet, nothing is fake.
It’s all natural. She’s waiting. Over there.
I want to make her angry. Just to see
What anger is. But then she would be angry at me.