How many masks and undermasks upon our contenance of soul And when if for sport the soul itself unmasks the last mask feels no inside to the mask but looks out by co-masked eyes whatever consciouness begins the task. A child frightened by mirrored faces. Our souls, children are thought losin' foist otherness upon their green grimaces, and get a whole world on their forget causin.
Oh boy what would you say if I rouged my lips and face. But boy what would you say if I rouged my lips and face twenty times a day.