Brad Rose

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.