"Karan Missing Opening Night"

  I drowned.
Sorrow let me swim in as easily as a parting of water.
        Sadness surrounded me.
I floated in liquid grief: my eerily suspended hair and hands waving
         like kelp or fins
         subject to current and wind.
I was a slave.

And opening night with a couple two seats over: I guarded your place.
The lady asked if anyone were using your seat
          when what she meant to ask was if anyone were sitting there.
My bones yelled yes!
          I was marking,
backing up and falling forward.
I held on with a bit of a finger nail and a tooth.
I gripped my toes into the front of my shoes and into the floor
and smiled and said "No."
At which responce,
she lay her sweater and purse atop where you should
have been sitting:
where you should have been dropping popcorn kernels
and complaining about the program and the size of the font.