The Moya View

Masks Strolling Venice’s Square

A rogue with a stitched mouth steals bye,
swiping a pearl from the porcelain woman
gazing adoringly at the moon-face lothario.
The false Pope blesses the crying baptized
child that Godfather death holds in his hands.

The masks float along the Venice square
singing dead languages, hiding their selves
in the faces of gods and goddesses sighing.





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