Masquerade
There is something undeniably alluring about a masked face. Porcelain or satin, paper, velvet; blue, black, red, silver; animal or god; no matter the mask, there are only plush lips and dark, sultry eyes remaining. Perhaps that’s why I was drawn to them–no identity, just life.
“A dance, my Lady?”
No questions asked, no long conversations, just arms encompassing the body of another. We danced and it was peaceful, mysterious. Step, two, three. Twirl. Draw close and breathe.
Applause. The song ends and we part. Memory remains; maybe there will be a second meeting, maybe we’ve met a hundred times before. This is just another facet of enchantment. Masks do not deceive; they create new realities.
As one retreats, another waits to join in the dance.
It is all a part of the masquerade.
Hey,
Hmm, that was nice. You evoque a scene and a feeling in a very nice and subtle way. Masks don’t deceive but create new realities, huh? Interesting way to put it…
Keep it up,
- César