Masks

     Her hands reached out to caress the lace of her bodice, the candle light shimmered across the copper folds of her skirt. She looked back at herself as the mirror reflected an image she barely recognized. She had been so many different things to so many different people that she never knew which mask she would reach for. So many to choose from, she allowed herself to be picked apart day by day. So the masks became her shield, her amour, her confidence. But not today, no more would she be a prisoner of her own making. But even with that thought, she looked down and realized, without even knowing, that she had selected her shield. The mask that would transform her, allow her to interact with society. So it would not change, with a sigh she resigned herself to fate.  She heard a sound and saw him appear in the mirror behind her. He gazed at her with a look that was far to familiar. He saw through all her masks, even those she kept in her secret place. She wanted to run, but she could not bear to leave. She looked at him and he placed his hand over hers and lowered the mask. His eyes spoke to her soul and gave her courage. He silently pleaded, and she could not bear to see the raw emotion. Stripped bare of soul they stood there, eyes locked, she understood and nodded. She looked at the mirror again, her lace, her copper folds, gracefully flowing out. No armour, but soft, vulnerable, and now willing to try. His arms engulfed her, his lips kissed her, and she was alive. He was an angel sent she knew, for even as she put the candle out, the shimmer remained. It came from him and she felt it's heat sink into her. Angel or man? She was uncertain, he was as real to her as she was to herself. So a deep breath quietly left her lips. She placed her hand in his, and together they walked into the world. She felt naked without her mask, but enjoyed the feel of the sun on her skin. She turned to gaze at her man angel and laughed, a sound as joyous as bells on Christmas morning, he simply blew her a kiss. Anyone who bothered to look, saw only her flowing copper skirts as she ran towards the gardens, alone.