I once held an onion lightly in my palms, staring down at it, it smiled and waved, my fingers moved across it and hooked, it shuttered but remained cordial, no need to raise alarm. I began peeling back layer one, it warned me what i saw would sting, but, well, curiosity i suppose... I tossed the shameless purple layer on the cracked lanoleum and breathed deep a strong scent. THe onions smile faltered, "please, just, stop here," she requested, "we can just say like this forever". I carrased the onion, layer 2 rubbing off in splinters that whisped back and forth thru the air towards the ground like a leaf in fall. A tear gently rolled down the onion, "please," she said, "I dont want to hurt you". I stared deep into layer three, watever was hidden was scratching at my nostrils, intriguing my nasal cavaties as to what could be beyond. I whispered, "someone need to know, love" and my fingernails gently shaved away layer three, the onion wept, she knew what i didn't. Fragments of the mask fell and wilted on the floor like a rose by another name, whispers of love and pain screamed thru the silent air. The sting struck out at me, my head slashing back at the millions of needles in my nose. I looked back at her, "how could you?" I asked, " I warned you" she said in a sad quiet sombrence, as the tears fell from my eyes to her soul... "I warned you that you'd love me" she said as her layer melted thru my fingers until i stood, grasping and searching the lines of my hands for something that couldn't survive exposed... and my tears flowed.