A small theatre, bare stage,
a brilliant spotlight playing on a stool
behind a microphone.
On you come from the side
and I feel like the only one applauding.
You sit with your guitar and play
songs to touch an audience in the dark.
I feel those shivers and throat lumps
without embarrassment.
You take me by the hand and lead me,
and who am I to argue with such things.
I am tangled in your six strings.
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