castaway ballerina shoes
scuffed with torn stitches
and the memory of stage floors
my nostrils intoxicate
at the mention of a name
Master
your demands
were ever-changing.
How could I keep
up with the slogan?
Compete And Beheaded Try
my listless
out of sorts alibi
always to disappear
behind curtains
or fabrics far more sinister
and relentlessly inexplicable.
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