let them dance
with masks on their face.
let them hide
behind the music,
inside their turtle shells.
but I still crave
still crave the feeling of freedom
still itch to burst out above the surface
still edge to stretch my wings
to take off my mask
let them feel safe
just a masked confession of the heart
dancing to the rhthym
content with prosaic waltz
but I still crave
still crave to tango and salsa
still prefer to breathe passionately
still choosing sprinkles over vanilla
to unveil what is under the mask
to be Real. and Me. and Original.