The Mask of Me. A Poem by Sam Silva

The mask of me
swimming in contamination
and yearning
to get close to flesh and air!

A dance!,
of distancing gyration
until I sink
into my holy
and completely safe
from whatever pillars
cars and guns
out there

…a freedom
born of suffering and dust
is the only other choice

except that murmurs from computers
and the radio
offer up their voice.

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