Mimetic play of shadows, this life of scattered pasts
Re-lived in broken sequence and blind
To irony’s howl,
Refined
For a present imperfect, whence its actors recasts.
Barb wire. Wrapped spikes around the insoles of my feet,
The illusion of freedom dispelled,
Depleted of colour,
Repelled
The will of a slave, by destiny deemed obsolete.
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vic briggs 