Is the pain worth the smile

that I find is on my tainted

and exhausted lips at two

in the morning, numb

having spoken for an hour,

throat dry despite the sips of water

I had taken through the evening;

my biggest and longest performance

at the tender age of forty-five

and one that made me stop

for a brief moment

when I consider that for thirty years

I was a coward, that I would not

and could not put myself up

to put myself forward;