She wears one mask.
She wears one mask
under blue still sky's face, hers
is more calm, pacific tide beneath
waves that call me closer.
She wears one mask,
contours that her face draws upon the air,
with veiled smile, easy affection, like
some curtain drawn over warmer embrace,
hidden to no eyes that linger.
She wears one mask,
and in the twinkle of her eye,
that one moment when I turn my gaze,
she transforms, sleek black gauze
draped over desire, which
I undo silk by silken breath,
beneath, to silken flesh.
She wears one mask,
lips like leaves she stirs the wind,
takes me within her secret embrace,
till I begin to wonder,
Am I the leaf or the wind?
And behind each mask calm and passionate,
the one who wears us both - joy.
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