Transparent

It makes no difference
who you are—
a name,
a flag,
a mask of clay.

Break the husks,
the painted crusts.
Let’s meet
beneath the costume of the day.

Let us see each other,
soul to soul,
without the intrusion
of figures or roles.

Let us stand
in true nakedness,
and see
how see-through
our spirits are—
unburdened by flesh,
unveiled from display.

How transparent our beauty,
wearing no makeup,
before the blight
turns the mirror grey.