somewhere they can't find us

Why, she wondered, can't we quit the production and
go back to what's real?
--

Meet me at the intermission
and take my hand,
I'll lead you to where the flowers are real
and the sky can't be reached.

I don't know where the rain comes from,
but let it rain on me.
I don't know how the bees got here,
but let them buzz around you.

And I'll lay with you in the sun-scorched grass
and forever try not to remember.
If you promise we might never be on stage,
as I promise we never return.

You and me, backstage, tonight.


All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts.