Hidden Questions
faces hide questions
no one can see,
small as pores, dwarfed by grins,
those latitudes of longitudinal lies.
leathery plains span cheekbones,
hide peek-a-boos of prairie flowers,
as teardrops of deep-sea clues
hunt for glimmers of something wise.
such sad expressions.
they can’t heal,
mere wax under the caress
of a volatile, helpless fingertip--
a chin would dissipate into quivers,
a brow reform into a tomb,
a nose descend through aromatic sonatas,
long-lost
and far too far away to cherish.
10/1 ... significant changes to two stanzas
Another day passes by. Yee-haw ...
8/28 "volatile, helpless fingertips" replaces longer clunky line
8/21 ... Major changes a few hours after posting ... more changes later in the day
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