The phantom mwahahahas; swifts

in black shadows to taunt and tease;

darkly lures me with satanic ease;

blushes me roughly as he pleases me

to sinister scenes of tender torture.

Slaved images play me in backgrounds,

whipping ivory screens - screeching

obscenities into trap door depths: I am

prisoner, he the famished rat. But out

from wings, under spotlights he is blind,

ebbing, burning while I thrive: trapezing,

easing myself away, treading boards of

faraway acts. He comes for me – two

faced – for two fingers to defiantly eclipse

his mask; rebellion! I risk my life for the

rising curtain; the sound of raucous

applause and my moment of glory.