A Shadow Behind The Mask

A connection in a time
when there is a mask
to be worn-decorated
as it is, it still hides
the eyes of the beholder.
These eyes, the windows to
the words that flow from
the pen, are mask
by day and guide
through the shadows
by night.

she sleeps,
guarded by
the very light that seeks
to blind her.
her soft breathing tells
me she is sleeping well,
while my own eyes, burned
by the night light, seek refuge
in my notebook and in the
tender touch of her right palm
against my thigh.
she sleeps unaware-
her role
both the guarded
and Guardian.

I still remember it-
You behind the
church building
sneaking a smoke and a kiss
trying to fondle my breast.

We kissed for hours
Your lips, so soft
but I taught you
how
to use them.

If the devil knew your name

would you court him, let him

in to all your secrets, caress

your breath and accept his lips or
would you grab his balls and give

him the kiss of death he deserves?

I imagine you in fifty years

imagining me and what I

would have been if I did

not become a space cowboy