Were you speaking to me?
Did someone say something?
Oh, it was you, how are you?
What? I didn’t understand...

Is he smiling or grimacing?
I can’t tell by his eyes.
The mask moves with muffled sound.
Is his mouth smiling or his teeth gritted?

Before masks we always knew!
We knew our place and we placed
others like pieces on a chess board.
Kings, Queens, pawns, all had a role.

Now, we deal with the unknown.
We are certain by half, but half is hidden.
The tells we count on are obscured
by masks of necessity.

Dealing with the uncertainty causes
us to question ourselves.
If he isn’t who I thought he was,
who does he think I am?

Now I wonder who I am? Is anyone
the same behind a mask. Does the
mask alter who we are or just the
perception of ourselves.

Can certainty be so cosmetic as to be
mortally wounded by a mask of necessity.
Can a finite plague have such an impact on
a soul and spirit thought to be infinite.