so complex we children of the serpent
tail to head wind a century’s spiral
some a little more
most a little less
remiss sloughing our skin time and again
why do we lose sight of this performance
when it’s all we get until the curtain
drunken amnesiac method actors
footlight-blind and lost in oft-rehearsed roles
skin shed costume change
in-betweens are wondrous strange
it’s sometimes sad we desire to be known
before knowing our selves at last
posturing coiling a life slithers past
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