Under Gothic Masks

In the beginning, there was energy
seeping out of hearts and guts
and souls
fueling the world,
making our everywhere and everything.

We shaped it (him? her? Our choice…
in our own image;
filled it with screams and fears
and hopes, wants, unknowns and…
so many desires.

We masked it—with nicer pieces
of us—shrouding the daunting,
and called it Everything…

energy ripped off ironclad camouflage,
mind-crafted lips spat back
our old, old, old words;

we ran and hid
under Gothic masks,
having forgotten We
once made Everything.

for Magpie Tales 280
(I wasn’t going to write anything for this on, but then Rommy got inside my head;
the woman is a menace, I tell you…)

Giant Iron Mask

27 thoughts on “Under Gothic Masks

    • I think remembering that eternal detail would make us more patient with others (and with ourselves). We would remember the times when we weren’t as proficient and be willing to forgive more mistakes; we wouldn’t forget that what we fear, we actually know. Much better indeed…

  1. Your reading of the image is so original, Magaly. I found myself in total agreement with your argument and description of the ‘we’ of us all.

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