Unmasked

a haiku chain (with audio)

Author’s photo, through art filter

She tumbles down from
giddy heights, never chosen —
a pedestal of

unfired clay, shaped by
his dream of her perfection.
She’d known it couldn’t

last; crumbled under
the weight of his quixotic
expectation. Still,

crashed to earth, caked in
dirt, she aches for the grace of
their masked innocence.

She rubs her eyes. Yes,
he was sweet — but smothering.
Alone, she can breathe.

© Zarina Dara 2019. All Rights Reserved

Written as a double response to Deborah Christensen’s prompt “grace” and Tracy Aston’s prompt “perception” in the House of Haiku.