May 31, 2013

The Mask Where Freedom Hides. {Poem} ~ Edith Lazenby

Change wears a mask.

It’s behind every moment.

I try its face on mine.

I wink. I smile. I cry.

I want to see behind

What stares beyond.

I take out mirrors.

I sculpt the present.

I look at how light

Plays the angles.

I dance in shadows.

I move before she does.

Then she becomes a he

Tapping a tune I don’t know.

I learn quickly.

I am too fast for my own good.

Yet this is not a race.

There is nothing to win

And everything to lose.

I wear the right shoes.

I put on dark lipstick.

I buy sunglasses for the moon.

I court joy as if feeling

Were a date I could break.

I want to laugh until life

Shatters all my teeth.

I want to scream at a pitch

So high wolves howl for me.

I want to make appointments:

Today I do this.

Tomorrow I do that.

This habit must go.

This habit must come.

I would have made a better Nun.

Up before dawn.

Prayers. Silence. Simple food.

A community of uniforms.

A common goal.

The higher life.

Mine has been low,

Like a rat in the underground.

My insides are charred.

My heart is scarred.

My mind is acute.

This thing I do called living

Doesn’t deny me a thing.

This life I lead creates

Valleys with alleys and has

Meadows with faeries

And mountains to climb.

Balance is a game:

Tug of war.

My rope is longer.

My hands are stronger.

My feet dig deep into the earth.

I pull and pull and pull

Until I realize all need

Asks is for me to let go.

I fall on my ass.

I see the clouds.

A ladybug lands on my pinky.

The grass is warm.

The sun is hot.

Freedom never felt so good:

It’s held somewhere between

Yes and the unknown.

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Editor: Kate Bartolotta

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