a moment of stunned silence, and then
applause tears through the audience
who are shockingly responding to obvious, raw talent
I turn in my seat, because I want to look at you
and know that you understand what I'm not talking about
in this sound, where my hands contribute
and where your clap sounds
doesn't matter
because there is universal recognition--
i unite conceptually with a complete stranger--
we revolve around this performance
as if it was staged for our enjoyment
circling years of quiet and lonely victories
we are ignoring those moments:
they are not personal.
we appreciate this display
but disregard thousands of seemingly unremarkable attempts
working up to this night
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