The count is lost through the years
of the lives I’ve chose to live
this question matters in the least
when the versions are revealed

congruities of purpose split
among the paths I’ve gladly walked
differ widely by intent
while they merge to form the whole

each has a mask I take down
from its place on the wall
to revel in the task at hand
joy in pain and carnal bliss

this variety of pursuits
some controversial in themselves
others push against the grain
asserted by society

switching out identity
to suit the job near at hand
may confuse those who watch
the shifts required to exist

to reconcile what I must share
the count is lost in aftermath
disguises revel in themselves
the controversy I’ll accept.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190108.