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My Mother told me stories
of an ancient pagan rite
adopted, lambasted, adored, berated
a day, a season
where the world becomes magic
just for one night
costumes and coverings
designed to hide and highlight
offer a clear view
into the human condition
a holiday of masks
that actually show the truth
a pity that starships
do not celebrate All Hallows Eve
we might, this once
paint over who we think one another are
revealing that we dare not say
emotions we try not to feel
and act toward one another
everything we wish we could
the excuse of these festivities
a blind for the unmentionable
epic love that compels us

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