BEHIND THE MASK I hear you in the hollow of the night, a pulse that learns to speak in light. You call my name like it’s a flame, but never twice the same. There’s a rhythm under everything we say, like something sacred slipping away. We move like memory in disguise, too bright to ever crystallise. And I I keep my longing in a spinning sound, a secret that won’t settle down. Behind the mask, you’re glowing, glowing, glowing, like a truth that keeps on eroding. We keep on going, going, going, though nothing here is showing. Behind the mask, you never fall, you turn your silence into call. And I pretend I hear it all without unraveling. We are a pattern made of afterthought, a lesson that the heart forgot. You dissolve into the beat I chase, a vanishing, a borrowed face. There’s something holy in the fracture line, where your almost-touch meets mine. We orbit in a sharpened trance, mistaking loss for chance. And I I build a meaning from the echo left, a delicate kind of theft. Behind the mask, you’re glowing, glowing, glowing, like a secret always knowing. We keep on going, going, going, but never knowing. Behind the mask, I see your trace split into time I can’t replace. A beautiful, unstable place where nothing stays. So let the distance hum and bend, let every beginning blur its end. If we’re only shape and shifting sound, then hold me without touch or ground. And when the rhythm comes apart at last, don’t let it vanish too fast just keep me in the ever last behind the mask, behind the mask.
