Magician’s
Assistant
I
don’t
fall
for
any
tricks
but
yours.
And,
those…
and
how.
I’m
up
your
sleeve,
wrists
bound
by
perfume
meant
for
him.
You
lay
me
down
on
a
café
table,
cut
heart-‐first,
and
I
say
It’s
just
an
illusion
to
keep
myself
from
disappearing.
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