Anatomy of a Mask

She put on her pretty mask

today...

And this is what the mask

will say:

"It's all so good

my heart

this way."

The man has slipped

his on as well

this one explains

where he will dwell.

The other one

laughs

fixing hers up

this one
 
will take her

straight to the top.

The lovely sex starlet

want-to-be-queen

and we know exactly

just what she means.

Her mask

speaks so sweetly

of her tender lust,

the body to her

is all she can trust.

And here comes another

to speak of the loveless,

for him

his mask

becomes his harness.

A mask made of poems

sometimes we wear

love looking out

in  a deep

silent stare.

Poetry flowing

like tears on a mime

moving like spirits

now lost in time.

The words may just feel

as hard as cold stones,

no flesh is allowed

to touch

the strong bones.

A face of lost song

a tune that we dance

to keep it alive

this now splendid trance.

No time to look

behind the mask...

To find the old truth

becomes the new task.

Yet the Soul

does cry out

"See...

I am here!"

And the mask will reply

"You are not,

my dear."