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The Mask

Smile!

Smile and dance, dance until you run out of breath.

... but savor those breaths.

Because, if you follow a shadow away into the garden you might no see his eyes.

The all-telling eyes, that are dark and decietful. They plot and plan. The eyes that will lead you to your doom.

Covered by a mask.

A mask.

A mask, indeed.

A smilling, colorful mask with sequins and feathers and long lashes, delicate and polite.

But remember, the stick is easily grabbed from the hand, the cord easily cut.  Of these victorian masquerade parties.

Just a mask!

Do you see? Do you see what powders the edges of the wine glasses?

Do you see the poison drops passed mouth to mouth,

The man passed out? drunken?

Or was it not at all an accident? Was he not passed out from too many glasses, but poisoned?

But just keep smiling and dancing.

Because if your time does come next, and the handsome man takes you by the glove to the courtyard,

you will no be able to resist.

So dance, because either you will or you will not, and fretting isn't going to help.

Ignore the open-eyed woman with the last drops of wine dripping out of her glass, lying on the couch. Who is she?

The mask!

Follow the mask.
(C)ELaine 2009

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