Charlatan’s Chagrin

Faking love 

she Needed 

to get by

To be high
On the platform 

She carefully crafted

From old abandoned houses
She waited for the sigh

Of the floor’s creaking 

release of 

Old twisted meaning

She saw with new eyes
And hands

Writing fictions on

Her body 
Distilling dictions

Like camphors

Crystal clear balls

Curing future’s surprise 

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