A boy's love.

And here I am, looking upon grey skies under the willow tree. The light breeze allows light sprinkles of rain to cool what bear skin I have, the mask I wear letting in the smallest drops of water onto my eyelids, as I let my dear friend, my dog Katy sleep on my stomach, spiders and centipedes and other little critters crawling their way, little legs tackling my bear hands as a thousand soft blades of grass cushion me in the cool dusk. I love it. I love it all. But as long as it is possible I can be seen by another human being, I dare not take this mask off. Unsettling as the burlap cover is, I do not share my face but with that which I love. Man is mortal. A symbol lasts forever. My many masks are for me, a part of me, are me. What do I love? My dog. The little critters I let inside my house. But not quite myself. I do make sure I survive, but all the mirrors are broken. Shattered into a thousand distorted pieces like my own soul. I am man. I am mortal. But I am also something else. I am hollow. I am empty. And here I am... under the willow tree.....