Lover is the mask the loved one wears himself. Through tinted lenses he watches her toss her hair and by the chosen slit he kisses her goodnight. She bleeds a hurricane and he sees her in a sundress; she bites lightning rods and he hears her laugh resound. The shades reverse—sky blue brews soot gray and twilight sags noonday only if he comes aground. Love is your wet clay and lover your stage play. It's he who takes the mask off when she lets him down.