182 – Confession

All fiction
Is in essence
Nothing more
Than camouflaged
Auto-biography.

Paper shadows
Built of words,
Veiled masks,
For what we are hesitant
To say.

Dragons and spacemen,
From distant lands
And ages
Can help make
Easier to face
The cold eyes
Looking deep
Into your soul
From within
The mirror
Every morning.

• • •

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