honesty comes from peeling back
the veneer of who you thought to see
(the self in me they'll find pleasing)
for the dirt floor essence of my reality

I am no longer Spring's scented bloom
of night jasmine or periwinkle
the smile lines crease my face
and there's an arc to my laughter
that wasn't there 10 years before

when I listen to you, I see
both what you wish to say
as well as what your thoughts imply
and, sometimes, (well, more often
than I'd care to admit),
I pour a glass to numb
the aching world collecting
between my toes,
leaving callouses
on my heart

yes, I'm good at posing smiles
to silence the creaking floorboards
that gnaw me awake inside
but tonight,
here's a toast to
authentic reflections,
bleary eyed
with streaks of silver hair
luxuriously lining
the sheen of youth's ebony

here's to patience
and forgiveness
and an unrelenting
taste for love