by Barbara Alfaro
Once, when I was an extra in a film,
I wore an evening gown. It was satin,
lavender, and lovely. The costumer
fussed over me as if I were the lead &
said how great I looked. I owned a long
black summer dress with spaghetti straps
and tiny splashes of orange that looked like
an evening gown but of course, it wasn’t.
I don’t care at all about this sort of thing
unless I’m watching old movies on TV
where actresses, now ghosts, wearing
evening gowns move across fake rooms.
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