Monologue:1

Image Courtesy: www.artrabbit.com/events/tar-paintings

the brown patch on your right shoulder 

reminds me of the tarred road on a scorching summer-day. 

my feet would get stuck often, 

my usually unsettled black ballerinas would stay put in the blistering pitch. 

i used to feel uneasy, lest they remain there forever. 

i think, leaving my shoes behind would cause more worry 

than the hotness on my skin. 

your brown patch reminds me of that molten tar, 

i left all my shoes there.