Kamaskera Porcelain

I hold the morning like a cup I borrowed,
I smile the way the surface asks me to,
I set my face before the mirror —
Porcelain.

The conversations land like careful fingers,
Each sentence placed to keep the edges smooth,
And no one sees the hairline —
Porcelain.

There was a day I almost let it happen,
A pause too long, a syllable too true,
But I repaired the surface —
Porcelain.

The mask I wear exists in every timeline,
The same composed expression, every world,
And underneath, a different —
Porcelain.

One day the glaze will thin past recognition,
One day the light will find the fracture through,
But not today — today I am still —
Porcelain.