I have never seen a face more beautiful than my own --
like it was in the restroom just after noon where I stopped to look,
where I reached for my own eyes
those dark wonders calling out
"come inside, dive in where it's warm and real,
you can stay here."
Those same eyes have traced the lines of lips, the ones
she said once were nearly perfect -- she was almost right --
the ones that live soft around my language, that form words,
that get bit by furious fangs, that hold in what can stink
and soothe and save the souls of millions each of whom have lips --
should I apologize for loving mine most more than any other anywhere?
Sure -- the mirror masks what's pimply inside,
a countenance that's clear as sand, man,
or the sea touched by the light just right revealing glory.
And woe is me, indeed and yes and how, till
Wow and radiant here I am --
in a glance, for a moment,
Sent with moist mouth, deep loving eyes to the mirror
where you and I collide and twirl the blushing world.
Take-home: Every person on this earth should love their own face most and first.
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