Disguises.
Masks concealing the visage
of the man I love.
Icy blue, forest green, earthy brown eyes
stare
glance
peer out, saying nothing.
Their disguise.
Hideous horns,
Grotesque grooves,
Fictitious fangs all make up their loathsome personas.

The smells; rotten odors, musky remnants of vile misdoings-
disguised by a ring of violets
rung about their necks
Their perfume is strong, but cannot mask their sins.

It’s a circus.
Full of games, entertainment and wonder.
No tricks are explained, no disguises revealed.
An applause – and the lights go down,
the audience goes home.
He sleeps with his mask on.
He sleeps with a smile.