She is the hider
who cowers behind
her wilted
masks and raven
veils. It is her protective
barrier that you
cannot penetrate without
her permission,
something she will
never give.
He is the seeker
who boldly
lifts the veil
and chips away
at her false face
until
he sees who she truly is.
She is the hider
who slumps on her
summer sheets and peals
the mask off her face,
tears smearing the paint
and wearing away the
artificial smile.
He is the seeker
who sniffed out her
location and cracked open
the bedroom door. He
was the first to see her
realness, her innocence,
her entity as it was bathed
in tears.
She is the hider
whose fingers clenched
the false face until it
snapped, sending the
fragments crackling
to the floor.
She is the hider
who tore off the
veil in a fit of fury and
wrung it between
her hands, trying to
cut off the circulation
to her heart.
He is the seeker
who brushed aside the
shattered pieces
and grasped her raw
frame tightly. It was slick
like a snake
after they shed their skin.
She was gleaming and
silken softness
and he had never
held such gentle
fairness before.
She is the hider
who could
breath again.
He is the seeker
who inhaled
false
and exhaled
truth
into her lungs.