Theatre
THEATRE
is this some sort of operation
an apparition
taking place above my head where
bluemouthed
masks stare shadowed by
overhead lights
is that the man in white or not
yet… not quite…
with red bright
stained latex fingers
threatening sharp intent
like skinny strips of
tin foil to dig into
deepened coils
of diseased
Infirmities
blood clots clamped
near veined
tendrils of pain that
would scream but
now deadened
with Morphine
fashionable white saws
crack ribs like frail straws
revealing a heart
shattered in off beats…
a smash and grab
how can I reveal and
let them steal this
dysfunctional
shrunken
life
replacing the empty
spaces that appal
me the most
© Kim van Breda—9 October 2015
Copyright © Kim Van Breda | Year Posted 2015
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