You were the first to see me so exposed.
It was innocent then -
Or maybe it was just foolish.
Either way it was raw and real;
The way love is supposed to be
And the way love is
Before we dig out our masks
And dance it in masquerades.

You used to look at me in the eye.
You used to clutch me
In the palms of your open hands.
I was naked
And yet I did not feel vulnerable;
I felt seen.

Now you paint over my eyes.
You paint beautiful things -
You always were an artist -
But with your paint you cover me.
You cover me so I cannot be seen.
You cover me with your colors
And now I do feel vulnerable.