it’s just smile, tilt your head
artistically—it’s anything you wanted
it’s in that pretty limbo, that hole in time where you could have it
anything

but then they took your freckles off one by one
paint—white paint—as much soul as you could cover
they cover that hole in time
and you cannot lean back

sweat under all the layers and taking off your shoes
a hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone
and family photos, muscles, armymen
just a little off-center and you can’t place why
just smile, tilt your head

it doesn’t work now