Out of our own mouths we are sentenced,

                                we who put our trust in visible things.

Soon enough we will forget the world.
                            And soon enough the world will forget us.

The breath of our lives, passing from this one to that one.
Is what the wind says, its single word
                                                       being the earth’s delight.

Lust of the tongue, lust of the eye,
                     out of our own mouths we are sentenced . . .

Last Journal

by Charles Wright

what's going to happen when the masks come off.