the curtain rises
the spotlight consumes us
our hearts are racing
our pulses pound in our temples
we're hiding on the stage
hiding behind the director's masks
to ambush an unsuspecting audience
to capture them
in a web
of their own mythologies
with tremors in our throats
barely able to see our target
we frantically fumble for our arrows
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i. i sit quietly watching the man seeking my soft spots with nimble fingers sliding in the needles, head, neck, belly, arms i'm froz...
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