the Beast who has entirely
confused his awareness for his environment
never comes to stare at you but
lunges in a cry and halfrips off your face
and crestfalls into tremors of a long
lost relaxed grace

his whole mask fits together
with the two halves of his face
they meet in a territory that distances
the closer it approaches straight between the eyes
so the lunge is made when sight is gained
of a vagueness that was not there --

you were

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