Undressed

at first she did not want to attend the party was not in the bright mood for heavenly guise she was an honest soul and did not like masks fancy dress nonsense and the theme was Tarot she did not like Empresses with false garments felt like a Hermit hung from within a dark Tower how devious it would be if she dressed up as Sun sunstroke sunburn scorched skin desiccated cover blisters third degree burns and no ointment in sight blinded by darkness in an irony of a dark deprivation she waited until the clock struck midnight went naked to offer her scars to the Fool unveiled her tattoos for everyone to see she would sit in a hidden corner for comfort tranquil from psychotropic self-medication overdosed on delusion of dying contempt eclipsed by sorrow she would be her own funeral wake he had wanted to stay home just the same imbibe on lost pleasure and obvious gloom enlightened by apocalyptic celestial doom the meaning of life what a charade of the Devil Death camouflaged as Justice on a broken scale sycophantic Hierophant bewitched by false promise how false if he joined the masquerade as the Moon moon-blind moonstruck rays like suicidal incisions craters deep as an empty vessel sunk by the sea finger on trigger in a Chariot on cemetery grounds he would expose himself without any outfit a customized non entity bared of any costumes sip a bit of moonshine and turn a blind eye he took a few pills as a token of sanity braced for cataclysmic abandonment would sit under cover of farcical front as personified eulogy and sacred sacrificial offering they were both watching their own stagnant procession and yet just one un-orchestrated glance broke the spell beauty escaped from two shells of mysterious shadows and the Sun asked the Moon for a slow dance and kiss bound together by a glimpse of loneliness and passion they awoke not quite fully clothed for breakfast at dawn 25th May 2020