Your Ticket For the Theatre

Your ticket for the theatre
is crumpled with joy
when I look
in your pocket

Other people, I observe,
enter stage left with zips closed
things are hiding sure
but rarely obscured
because we all see
as you so astutely told me
the tricks
during the interval
when the lights go on

I’ve always wondered how
your only coat survives the winter
when its edges are frayed
and the edges of you
are frayed too

Will you outlive your pockets
or will they swallow you
I wondered
while queueing for ice cream

You’re a crumpler
I’m a thinker at the interval
while lined up for a pocket of sugar

You’re a person
who may die
before their coat
from all the stress
of seeing
every sleight of hand