Breathe. Accept.  You are not the wrinkles in bedsheets or faded stars you dipped dreams within. You are this face, long and crookedly smiling, accompanied by dark eyes with brows that feel the painful weight of time stitching together aches felt in others.  Your hair threads into strands braided with midnight and a heart  straying toward forgiveness.  Peer through the shadows, the unlined eyes, these pale lips.  There’s faith in those contours, desire behind your hips.