BEHIND THE MASK

a Breakfast at Tiffany's poem by JetNoir

as Cat leaps upon my head

the dog that is your face

leers and groans

but I'm perfectly hidden

in a web of non-existence truths

my fingers strum the strings

that might have been made from the

gut of Cat, but more likely

the gut of me: for every time

I strum, I move further away

from what I truly am

oh! woe is me, and all

silly nonsense that merely

takes us away from the

question in my mind

that can we be truly happy

if we do not know each other

my darling Fred, could you be

my quiet salvation? or just another

rat?

my heart burns, but there

is quite simply, absolutely

nothing I can do, until

I ask the

simple question

what lies,

behind the mask?

Note: Just a little poem I got an idea from - and my love of Hannibal is showing. As I wrote in Wildcat, I love the film more than the novel, but still I wonder if they are truly right for each other (answer: of course they are!). But it's nice to celebrate my two year anniversary with this. As always, I hope you enjoyed it, and please review.

Disclaimer: All characters are copyright to Truman Capote/Paramount Pictures; and the poem to me. This poem has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page (that includes links) without my express written permission. Thankyou!

JetNoir