Should I include the metatheatrical Stepdaughter monologue from Six Characters in Search of an Author in my audition repertoire?

[Padmini]

I really like this monologue since it is ingenious and complex. It also strikes a chord in me, and I feel like I can really connect with the character.
However, it is metatheatrical, and I just read that monologues about theatre are risky. So I do not know whether I should keep it or not.
Please let me know what you think.
Here is the transcript of the monologue:
The Step-Daughter [stops, bends over the CHILD and takes the latter's face between her hands]. My little darling! You're frightened, aren't you? You don't know where we are, do you? [Pretending to reply to a question of the CHILD.] What is the stage? It's a place, baby, you know, where people play at being serious, a place where they act comedies. We've got to act a comedy now, dead serious, you know; and you're in it also, little one. [Embraces her, pressing the little head to her breast, and rocking the CHILD for a moment.] Oh darling, darling, what a horrid comedy you've got to play! What a wretched part they've found for you! A garden . . . a fountain . . . look . . . just suppose, kiddie, it's here. Where, you say? Why, right here in the middle. It's all pretence you know. That's the trouble, my pet: it's all make-belive here. It's better to imagine it though, because if they fix it up for you, it'll only be painted cardboard, painted cardboard for the rockery, the water, the plants . . . Ah, but I think a baby like this one would sooner have a make-believe fountain than a real one, so she could play with it. What a joke it'll be for the others! But for you, alas! not quite such a joke: you who are real, baby dear, and really play by a real fountain that is big and green and beautiful, with ever so many bamboos around it that are reflected in the water, and a whole lot of little ducks swimming about . . . No, Rosetta, no, your mother doesn't bother about you on account of that wretch of a son there. I'm in the devil of a temper, and as for that lad . .