The Masking
I sometimes wonder
whether you are wearing
a mask, that your alluring
crimson blush and perfume
is a subterfuge
made up to enamor me -
not crafted by a desire
to deceive but by a need
to conceal, that beneath
your beauty lies a truer self
you do not want
to reveal.
Perhaps you fear
that if seen under
the scrutiny of a clearer light,
your mask may fall apart
and expose
a deeper truth,
an essence of the sublime
which, in this world,
could overwhelm and blind,
thus choosing
to adorn yourself
with fragrant petals
and a thorn.
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