Experiencing One’s Face

Owning the face we get
starts with amaretto cheeks
beneath storybook eyes,
silken strands draped across the brow,
curious noses,
innocent lips.

From childhood to adulthood,
upon canvases so pure,
strokes the brush of time,
dipping into the palette of reality,
layering change upon change.

Colors,
some untainted,
others muddy,
drying,
cracking,
flaking.

What of these changes?

At some point…

One’s personal artwork
retires to Life’s attic,
propping itself against walls that shelter memories,
some good, some bad,
but all when faces knew not mirrors,
expressions were for their own sake,
and old-person-masks were reserved for Halloween make-believe.

Now…

Who are the faces feeling proud to die by?