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.