There is much I would say, but all parts of it take faith. Believing in unseen beauty that the eye cannot fathom, but the heart has memorized. Trusting that you are more than this pale imitation of yourself. Liking even the aspects of you that do not fit conveniently into any textbook definition. I like you outside that dictionary anyway.
Realizing that the most important thing about masks is that they are made to eventually come off. They cover the face, but do not define its underlying particles. Though you might adorn and daily redesign it, I prefer the naked humanity that is you within your aging skin.
You haven’t removed your mask in soo long, you think it features a finer face, than your own. Though somewhat humble and aging, it is most definitely the truer face that I most dearly love. Such a cherished face, weathered, though it is, by this passage of time. I have a certain affinity for such things and it shows in the sighs that live along my skin.
I have grown adept at waiting for you. I wile away the hours with contemplations of your countenance and conjectures upon that soul that lives within you.
I push the knowing away, at times, because the knowing, doesn’t really know, about the loneliness of having words to speak, but no one to speak them toward.
And so..here I am, faithful to a fault, but fraught with endless human qualities that leave me a bit cracked in places not yet available to be covered in gold.