Alone in the dark,
I pull off the last mask—
Gently, carefully,
Though my fingers
Tremble with the desire
To destroy this, even this,
The last of my defenses.
I would not recognize
The face that’d look
Out the mirror
If I dared face one now.
Better to do this rarely,
And only in the warm embrace
Of all-accepting Night.
19 June 2008
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