No never written anything but I thought that this was well written;
She Wears It Like A Mask
by Ron Carnell
She wears it like a mask
Each time she comes to me,
A shroud to cloud my eyes,
A veil I cannot see.
But her mask is just a ruse,
An aspect of her game.
It hides the girl behind
The fiction of her name.
That name is but a symbol
Of the role she plays for me,
A promise unfulfilled,
A hope of what could be.
Removing all between us,
Clothed only in her name,
Her touch is my illusion,
Setting heart and loin aflame.
A mirage within a dream,
A ghost of fragile youth,
She is fantasy. And fire.
And beauty born of truth.
Her name is but a name,
A symbol, just a mask -
Concealing what I see,
Revealing what I ask.
About the Poem
Celeste was, for lack of a better term, a stripper. It was how she made her living, and how she lived her life. I met her at a local bar when a bunch of buddies gathered to celebrate one of our number's imminent marriage. She and I talked, away from the crowds, and when she discovered I was a photographer, well, one thing led to another...
Celeste wasn't her real name. It was her stage name, a common thing in her line of work. It protected her, but for me, it also added the fascination of a mystery. This poem was the result of my fascination.
Oh, and incidentally, I knew Celeste for eight months before she finally revealed her real name to me.
