A Mime’s Release

Reckless like a child who cannot keep still under the eyes of the universe, he creates worlds of chaos and is disdained. The man cursed to silent acting and invisible props watches and waits, for the lovers kiss to set him free from his ghostly mine face, black gloves, and suspended.

She listens to them laugh at his gestures, sitting by and by, watching him, waiting for lover’s embrace. None to come until the recklessness overtakes her, after she transforms; a silver moon moth in the shadow of night, into thunder bravery and strength. Before the mob she flies, her dress waving like the desperate sea, to the silent actor. She ignores their jabbing words, ignores the stares, ignores the watching world. She ran to his side, wrapped her thin arms around his painted neck. Her lips of scarlet touched his of painted black. Their hearts intertwine like great tree roots coming together in unity.

And he was released, and he was let go and his voice returned. The invisible chains clattered to the ground. He was free and kissed his love with longing and fire and passion and spring joy. They left the crowds, the taunting mobs. He washed his white and black, never again to ware. His face, new and alive, looked more like a man then a mute mime.

And he embraced his dear, his love, his life, and they left the streets of actin and she left her lonely seat and life began at last.