Please Don't Touch

Masquerading

I took you to the council,
removing your mask in the aisle,
where everyone could see.
It wasn't my place to commit your sin,
in front of everybody; but now,
every time I see a glimpse of you in memory,
I touch the scar--

For all the days we spent,
hidden up in costumes and disguise,
you never were as beautiful, as with your face
revealed,

And now I'm writing you letters,
from my prison,
contemplating my repentance
and disease.