Transparent Realms & Other Thoughts: Poetry

There is laughter here,
In the subtle way
my feet slide
across the floor
~
 There is
a restlessness in me;
I know this much
is true
because sometimes
it is hard
To be here.
 ~
Let it be
as it is meant to me;
Let me become
who I am
~
And now the pain flares up,
An old wound masked by
A physical casing
How I long
for things unseen
Undone, unspent, unwrought
~
We’re all professionals here,
Locked in our roles of theater,
And if we took the masks all off,
We’d find that we’re the same

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