When the cast had cleared and the reels had stopped; She found herself resting, yet lonely
Refreshed, yet tired, suspended in a quiet trance, almost glad the long hours were over

The lights had dimmed behind her, yhe voices faded into corridors, and every line she had carried

Now lingered somewhere beyond her reach, she touched the silence like a familiar face, unsure whether to mourn or celebrate

Soon would come the screening, the director’s cut beneath discerning eyes, the whispers, the notes, the final judgment

Then the posters would rise, the marquees would bloom after dark, and strangers would enter her story

She waited between ending and beginning, before the film moved onward to the theaters

Awesome photos for my poetry