*****
the curse word breaks
from my lips and
I feel the salty tears on my face
drip down onto my opened toes,
blood, sweat and tears
together at last.

My foot lies in front of me
skinned like a fish,
the scales of old and new skin
glistening with their combined pain.

slowly, with a methodical gait
which springs from years
of this ritual,
I start to bind my toes, the blood
on my tights added to the
battle scars of art.