On Purpose

I’ll tell you mine

if you tell me yours.

They aren’t alike.

They don’t play out the same

each given different scripts, venues, lighting

some broadway productions

other equal as a solo performance.

I know mine

but it won’t ring true to you

anymore that we could trade

glasses, bras or lovers.

If you don’t know yours

mine won’t help you

my story will sound lame

you’d laugh

while I beam

to the sound of

one hand clapping.