photo by Austin Scherbarth

Surface Lens

Too many faces
so we get lost,
not finding intimate, and seeing commonplace
in all those cracks and pores.

But there are ones special to behold.
You cannot fathom, but accept
because your soul’s crumbled petals they unfold
to their mystical tranquility of scent.

Memorize the imperfections
of the pigments in their eyes,
doubt the unsureness of expression
learning why it is that they disguise.

To master the understanding of concealing you shall untie internal knot
of birthmarks, truths and all suspicions
because without it, it won’t
unbind their heart and hopeful intuitions.