fair oddness

 

 

                                                                                                                …perhaps odd fairness

 

 

                               There’s an excuse, for why the face cannot be memorized, there’s a reason the plan to memorize  the process, is amusing.

 

 

Because really, it’s a weird face. Because it’s round in a way which is nearly complete. Because the nose is shaped like a tiny toy race car. Because the ears can fit in a soft palm, like a girl’s. Because the mouth is obvious then subtle, the eyes can be seen but should be seen. Because there’s delicate blackness around the eyelids which is entertaining to look at. Because the face constantly tries to hide itself, and this in itself is beauty itself.

 

There’s an elegant deficiency about hair held together by tired bands, there’s classy sexiness about young hair around the face.

 

And then there’s a funny thought, and then the face is liberated. Then the general secrecy about it scatters like little excited birds. The smile itself unveils wealthy cheeks and the possibility of no worries and entices duplication on the observer’s face, which is good too.

 

 

        There’s purposefulness about how the hand lifts itself to the face, there’s a truth about the coil around the neck.

 

Then there’s unkind remark, making the face return to its old weirdness, except this time the gaze narrows so much, lashes take over pupil space. The cheeks fake carelessness and the mouth speaks impotent intimidations, or the mention of the word ass, which makes the world alright.

 

There’s art about lines on the upper arms, a mystery which is also the most relevant clue, an imperfection which is also the mastery, the perfection.