The Public Mask

You do not see
the real me
the person I am
in the quiet of my rooms

under that public mask
of muscles, tissue
brain matter

the real me
is sharp and quick

No, all you want to see
is the polite quiet confidence
the soft grandmotherly costume
I carry in my purse

When I come home
I breathe deeply
the mask gone

like taking off
a pair of high heels

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