Friday, May 23, 2008


Water wipes off the mask.
She is done,
Flowers of admirers surround her.
Knocks on the door are ignored.
She is the best but,
She is an enigma.

The lights dazzle.
She waves her fan around in a dance,
Bewildered eyes follow every motion.
In triumph she enters the shared room,
Leaving their shared stage.

Confronting the unmasked beauty,
There can only be one leading.
A showdown is programmed
For the night after tomorrow.

Curtains up.
Only one will be left standing.
The beauty flies over the crowd.
Now is her chance.
A rope is cut.

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