I will leave you the stage
the costumes
grease paint
I will not watch you string the puppets
construct the game
you may smile behind your fan
pouring tea from porcelain
to hide your true intent
often the best are most talented
at climbing the ladder
nobody will believe
she who invisibly bleeds
show the knife
they’ll say surely not
they’re so nice
often the stab
comes from those who claim
they have your back
only then are you free
to show your wings