Who made this?

Whose ritual is it
We move around in?

Who cut into us
The mask of difference
The mouth of utterance?

Who gave us these roles
The ones we didn't want
But pick up & play with
Speaking lines we hadn't known

We'd known

Until the ritual pauses
At our one secure moment

And we have cut into us
Signs of difference
Signs of differing

That slowly grow over & seal.
The flesh is merciful
And dulls us mostly before we end
Gaping into that dark muddy water.