The Mask We Wear
I slip into silken disguise.
It clings to the curve of night.
The mask is a kiss on the mouth.
A shadow that trembles with light.
Desire is a language unspoken.
It whispers beneath the skin.
It waits in the hush of a glance.
It hums where the secrets begin.
My voice is the brush of velvet.
My breath is the edge of flame.
The mask becomes my armour,
Yet it fuels the dangerous game.
A look can unmake the silence.
A touch can unravel the lie.
But the hidden self stays burning,
With hunger it cannot deny.
What I show is the shimmer of fire.
What I keep is the heat of the bone.
In the play of masks and glances,
I am hidden, yet wholly my own.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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By S. A. Crawford5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Really liked this one, Marie—ther words and the subtle but noticeable rhyme that weaves through it.
This would make a good introductory poem to a historical romance set in Victorian England. Good job.
I'm always impressed by how your poems sounds like they just flow out of you, like it's the easiest thing ever. So effortless, yet so beautiful and meaningful always.