We met at a masquerade that night
and you told me I was beautiful.
I was too shy to take off my mask,
but it made me so happy that you saw me anyway.
We danced and talked all night
and when it was time for me to go
you told me I was beautiful
and you wanted to stay in touch.
I fell in love with every letter you sent me.
You said you felt the same
and then we planned to see each other again.
I didn't wear my mask.
You didn't recognize me.
But then I understood:
you fell in love with the mask
and you recoiled from the person who wore it.
Take it. I don't want it anymore.
I'll leave the mask in your hands.
But when you finally realize that it's empty
without me behind it
it'll be too late.
I'll have already gone to find someone new.