THE LIBERATION OF THE KNIFE-THROWER'S DAUGHTER
"I saw the angel in the marble, and carved until I set him free."
– Michelangelo
I discern my sequined angel's silhouette,
then throw.
Air's punctured rush
curves around itself,
collapsing against the spinning glint.
Semblance of magic
quick-cut from the contours
of a compliant girl.
Something cold
in that stage smile
as she steps away,
a traced shadow
rising into the spotlight
from a certain grave.
Each night,
the same thing:
ice-bright smile,
unblinking bones,
applause sharp as knives.
I set her free
by missing.
My aim is true.
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