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Rated: E · Poetry · None · #2342300

Veiled truth.

A Legion of Masks

Scores of you—
painted lies,
perfumed want.
You circled close,
whispering hunger as love,
truth as theater.
I watched,
learned,
rose.
Your beauty was currency,
but bankrupt of soul.
You are beneath me—
not out of pride,
but perspective.
Clarity is my parting gift.
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