Always a mask
Held in the slim hand whitely
Always she had a mask before her face–

Truly the wrist
Holding it lightly
Fitted the task:
Sometimes however
Was there a shiver,
Fingertip quiver,
Ever so slightly–
Holding the mask?

For years and years and years I wondered
But dared not ask
And then–
I blundered,
Looked behind the mask,
To find
Nothing–
She had no face.

She had become
Merely a hand
Holding the mask
With grace.

— Author unknown
From NVC, Marshall Rosenberg.