An all-too familiar dreamscape with water.

Somebody must have fixed this place up--
Recognition!
It is always the same house,
this time red velvet hangings,
walnut floors,
the sea and the beach
a blue-gray slab intruding
through an open door.

A man and a woman
in elegant black and
white evening wear.
I can see white teeth
in their coupled smiles.

He greets me:
"Didn't you wear a mask
at our last party?"

I will not fear in this
place of intrigue.
to hell with survival;
This is a matter of pride!

Dropping the one I wore;
They knew me anyway...
I rise on my toes,
and dance with
effortless grace,
no pain from
barefoot point.

The couple smile on,
but so distantly,
masks still in place--
formality at the beach--
while sand becomes
the floor, and the walls
admit a low tide sea.