Masks

Don’t think I don’t see
that you pull your masks
from the battered trunk of your soul.

I do, too.
And I know you see mine.
I put them on,
as gifts.

Look, I say, this one has a piece of pain
still stuck at the edge of the smile.
You let one mask fall,
and another show.
a crooked smile on yours, too.

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4 thoughts on “Masks

  1. Mmmmmmm. This is a poem to dive into. Love the softness, the slowness, the sexuality and sensuality I feel while reading it. THANK YOU!

  2. Anna Stewart says:

    Wow. Just wow! Loved this poem! “a piece of pain/still stuck at the edge of the smile.” Favorite line! And the last line as well! Really stellar!

  3. Christine says:

    This is really beautiful! The poem flows so softly, yet there is a lot of pain conveyed. Brilliant!

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