The Face Behind the Mask

Safety lies in firm foundation
hiding eroded skin, the wrinkles
that bend around her mouth
Immeasurable moments of
yearning for time to stand still

Clots of inky mascara pebble
her lashes, yet she holds fast
to youthful illusion… every
new conquest a king, every bed
suppled by silk sheets

Then comes morning, mask
peels off to reveal clay skin
Lines that were hidden last
night; her flame of youth
doused by shivering reality

© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

For The Sunday Whirl (click the link to see the words) and also my poetic lilypad, Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, where Grapeling challenged us to write about masks. I’ll write more about this woman another day… and no, it’s not autobiographical! (Hell, I let it all show, just like my grey. I earned every wrinkle; in fact, some have names!)  Peace, Amy