when the movie ends

the lights come on and the credits roll
the warm crowded seats empty, the music rise
with each string and orchestra painting
a picture lining the disappearing street lamps

the trucks roll in, the workers get to work
sweeping up every dreamers and lovers' debris
sandboxes and wrappers and leftover ice cream
private conversations left unheard, undone.

i stay on till the credits roll to the soundtrack
learning to pronounce every difficult russian name on screen
till my dad walks back in and hoddles me away
unwilling, kicking, screaming like a brat
leaving a trail of imaginary popcorn dusted to the ground
and only memories of the distant sound
beckons me to leave by the side door

out here in the comfort of my four walls
with the oven working overtime
only the sound of the whirring wind
and my reliable couch keeping me in
with another movie right on cue
my learning curve starting to soothe
disappearing into another world

the music rises and descends with every note
every blackout fade in and out in my head
recounted regrets and regress,
reminders, dejavu, all too close to the moon
there is no pause button
no pit stops or toilet breaks
just one big epic in between these aches

the scent still lingers in the air
as i sit and wait for the dough to rise
in front of this light the warmth is nice
baking and burning something inside
my muffins will keep me company
till they find another home to call family

when the movie ends
the lights come on and the credits roll