Day 375: Sugar
∴
with the paint of profession
and the cape of personality,
we can don ourselves
anew
and mask the make
we’re unmistakably made.
the danger of course,
begins
when we believe the reflection
of graffitied geldings
and gilded stallions
is the real thing that we are.
it is a silly parade we march in thusly.
but the good rain comes
now and again –
like tears of laughter
born from our own absurdity –
and washes off these false garments
as though they were made of sugar,
and indeed, they must be.
sticky and hardened,
glossy and attractive,
they easily wilt
with a bit of heat
and a lick of the tongue
that speaks,
finally,
some liquid of truth.
∴
