Homecoming

Ugliness is but a nightmare.
The tawdry tinsel, paint and mask
vanish bahind the final curtain,
The Closed shutters
Of all shops in this market square.
The lights on the wares flicker no more.

The performer, with his paint off,
Runs up the way he had walked down.
The painted woman returns to her motherly self
From the public light to a private dark

Where embrace drowns the stink of gutters ...
Where kisses are not for sale ...