The Mask
It is that mask I desire,
him,
to shield my weakness,
my ugliness.
He
to restore my innocence and
inspire social grace.
I desire only him,
only his escape,
so warm
and sweet.
I long for his light,
for the weight,
for the taste of flowers,
spilling from our lips.
This cloak,
this identity,
I long for.
Copyright © Lisa Barton | Year Posted 2009
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