I look in the mirror
seeing not my own face,
but the mask I wear
as through the world I pace,
dark eyes unconcerned stare
from a serene unworried brow.

Underneath I am the ship without a keel
tossed and thrown by the frenzied waves,
while through the storm swept water of the soul I sail
aching depths sweep up to yearning waves
crashing against the ramparts of my heart to weep and flail.

I look at you pass
seeing not you, only a mask,
and at you I wonder
what do you dream I ask,
needing to talk and ponder
on the beauty of another.

Beneath are you cold and lonely as the night,
or the softest touch of silken moonlight stealing along another skin,
Venus, rising from the waters to hear a heart sing.
A candle burning in the window leading home kin,
light that shines in the darkness and sends it a baying.

I speak with you now
of this my burning fear.
If we are not unmasked,
then it is nothing we share
and all these things will have passed
like teardrops falling in the rain.

 
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