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Round 3: Masked games

I don't want
your corner stares
or your suppressed smiles,
your accidental touch,
never close to a caress,
I can't bear
your overcoat silences
your masquerade approval,
or your quivering lips,
never to be kissed
even when desired
I won't lie
for you to chase me,
for you to berate me
for you to accentuate me
to what you think I really am
I won't follow you down
to your lover's bed,
to your midnight cries,
to your unutterable plea
which you want no one to hear
I will still love,
but will feign progress
will take back my hands
will disregard calmly
the look that you gave me,
when you pretended to ignore,
in a deperate attempt
to get even

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