“She seems so cool, so focused, so quiet, yet her eyes remain fixed upon the horizon. You think you know all there is to know about her immediately upon meeting her, but everything you think you know is wrong. Passion flows through her like a river of blood. She only looked away for a moment, and the mask slipped, and you fell. All your tomorrows start here…” – Neil Gaiman


Exotic Drapes
Of Rich Tapestry
Her Tables Are Outfitted
With Ornate Silver
& Priceless Porcelain

She Serves
Fierce Black Tea
As Hot As The Furies
Hosting A Ball
To Occupy Villains

Bears Her Silhouette
Shadows Pale
In Comparison

Night Is A Thing
Of Dark Beauty
But It’s Nothing
Compared To Her

I Bow In Awe
At Her
& Wonder:

“Do We Wear The Masks
Or Do The Masks Wear Us?”

She Removes Hers Slowly
As I Remember
How Much I Love It
When Her Eyes
Turn Into Midnight…


They think they know her
Placed her in oh-so-small-and-proper holes
Little do they know
She isn’t quite what
They think after all
She’s much more
Much less
Way off base
Just enough
But nonetheless

The mask she wears
Only comes off
When a kindred spirit reaches across
Lifts it up and lets it fall
While she gazes deep into his eyes
Speaking a thousand words
Without saying a single one

Her table is heated
Draped with browns,blues and whites
She closes the drapes pulls the cord
And it becomes so dark
With only the flicker of the candles
That give just enough light and scent

That’s when she dips her hands
Into the heated oil
Touching herself first of all
Rubbing in the magic
That she’ll soon be casting

This is where she lets down
Her guard
Unleashes the gate
Pulls away from the restraints
And dances to the music
That only her soul hears
And her body feels

“Does she wear the mask
Or does the mask wear her?”

She won’t tell
And only a kindred soul will ever know.

Jeanna’ Mead
4 04 p.m 10-30-18

💙👣 Randy left the door ajar again ..I stepped in

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