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Through a Rip

Through a rip in the thick 
curtain between our life 
and the stage, I 
watch you suck the bleeding
toes of a blond ballerina -- 
the one whose sanity cracked
like ice one sharp winter
leaving her as fragile as a snowflake 
floating through the air searching 
for a tongue to melt on -- 
you, always the martyr,
needing her pain as 
I try to dance with
two left feet.