“We must be careful about
what we pretend to be.”–Kurt Vonnegut

I came to see you
at the Sunday matinee.
Sold out, you in your
prince’s regalia
all dour with revenge
and unsurety.
Me, wrapped in the
costume of distance
and old age.

We left the theater,
walked a hundred paces
to our cars. You put on
your mask to head home,
I kept mine by my side.
It wasn’t until time
for bed that I put
my mask on, and yours
came off again.


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