Poetic Interlude CXXII

I am stripped of pretension;
No longer codified, calcified,
By who I am or was – might have been, might be,
Those notions slipping off shoulders
In a gleaming pile.

You meet your mirror in artifice, craft yourself for the day,
The same one you’ve worn for years, ill-fitting – it never suited you.
-I have never been fooled
-I am not taken in by it
-I do not like your lies
You paint yourself in softest light, and smile, satisfied.

I am here, watching.
Behind that porcelain brow, can you feel my breath?Do you still see me flicker on the screen,
A black-and-white memory?

I have no shame.It is no use to me, and I am not afraid.

©2013 by Tyler J. Yoder. All rights reserved

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About Ty DeLyte

Madame DeLyte has suffered a grave disappointment - YET AGAIN - and still believes that freedom, beauty, and truth are what's valuable, rather than vulgar cash. He'd add love to that list - but, well, what can he say about love?
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