Faces change, only to be replaced
by the same unreadable expression
with different complexion and hair.

I forget the emotions hidden
beneath the imperfection in dimpled cheeks
or furrowed lines in corners.

Days flash past like blank faces,
distant planets that revolve
around the warmth of other people.

Night hangs with the absence
of the dark side of the moon,
shadows forming familiar features.

Faces always seem to change.
Each change of the creases
leaves me with a new confusion.


So, what do you think?

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