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.