The Masquerade

Holding back

the Sun,

the heart,

the sky.

The impenetrable firmament

obliges our dissent.

Obscured,

by a veil,

commiserating with our

selves and betters.

No one cares

what kind of skin you wear.

Cloaked in mild oppression,

no freedom tempts us, now.

Here in the Hall of Theatrics,

we can watch it all

play out.

No one is getting away;

everyone has a line

in this dim masquerade.

Sequestered from the light,

we wear our best denials,

like diamonds on our wrists.

Banter rich and smile,

like we don’t know

the only things

keeping us from being exposed

are the clouds.

 

HG – 2019

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