I Wore Lipstick Under My Mask

373

My mouth can’t help but curve upward even in hiding.

Hope skips counterpoint to each heartbeat at every encounter.

Crow’s feet crinkle in greeting every chance they get.



The Face in the Mirror

577

It was pretty unclear, that face in the mirror, no matter how the glass sparkled.
The image outside might be easily defined, but inside murky depths cast a haze.
So because of the fear, I avoided the mirror. I saw nothing to reflect at or marvel.
Beauty it seemed, was just not for me. In my portrait I saw nothing worth praise.