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Retina of the Beast
( Kwakiutl Masks)
Fear, in your eyes,
you run from me, swift footed.
On all fours I,
Fear of nothing
Run wild, free of Burden.
Is lain for me,
a trap, you hold spear in hand,
Fear of death
Pain, unfathomable pain.
Purges my side,
Dead, gone, although my body,
Fears of afterwards
Is left behind,
a craftsman’s hands work upon
my now bare skin,
Fears of change
Finished, onto wooden plate
a mask, of my former self.
My wooden eyes,
Fear of contentment
Finally, forever bring
a feeling of,
Fear, to all who look upon
My wooden eyes.
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