Mask of Smiles

A poem about a man who lurks in alleys.

A Mask of Smiles





He wanders streets and shadows where the moon can't seem to reach,

eyes in sunken sockets bright like glass.

Until he finds the one with the face he's out to seek,

as then, with gloved hands, he dons the mask.





It's a shivering sensation, like part of him has drowned,

and the world, bathed in red, seems to sing.

Something's been uncaged and from his throat it tears a sound,

and her voice, breaking out, shrilly rings.





He has a claw per hand and he's honed them to a point.

They taste her, every bit, through and through.

She decorates the night, bright new colours--what a sight!

He keeps a souvenir, but just a tooth.





As dawn bleeds white and wintry, he goes home around the bend,

the person to return until the mask is donned again.