Just look at
all the faces we don't want to be
and never want to see.
Is yours uglier than mine?
Whose will age worse over time?
Emotions, the masters of sinews,
move muscles like puppets on string.
But, they're always adjusting.
Never leaving be.
A puppet must dance it seems,
though they never get it quite right.
It's always a face I don't want to be
and never want to see.
But, I flail it around town,
worked over by, and out of time,
hoping pathetically,
desperately,
reasonably,
to crash it passionately
into a face
as off beat as mine.