"Free of wrinkles and scars"
Serena Rose 

Green, wandering eyes
Beneath the smooth brown sheet of hair
With lashes so light at the tips
Looking upward at the sky

A sarcastic comment
On her pink, round lips
Still chapped from the cold
Of a brisk winters day

It was the face of someone young
Free of wrinkles and scars
Someone ready to face the world
Someone who looked an awful lot like me

"Though your contour still wrinkles in my sheets somehow."
Lisa Benson 

Phone calls, lonely sheets.
Warm bodies, and cold feet.
Soft touch, hard kisses.
Imposed beliefs, and forgotten wishes.
Dancing silly, writing serious.
Long distance love is thought to be delirious.
Maybe they were right, since it's done now.
Though your contour still wrinkles in my sheets somehow.
Thinking of you I can feel happy, or I can feel numb.
You left behind far too many love crumbs.

"Wrinkles from smiles,"
Kairee Franzen 

Do me a favor.
Go find a mirror.

Look at yourself.
But more importantly,
See yourself.
Find the marks that line your face.
Wrinkles from smiles,
And stress,
And pain,
And laughter.
Find the scars that mark your skin,
And remember how you handled the ones on your heart.
Find the bruises that blacken your body,
And remember how you blackened yourself.
Are you someone you respect?
Are you someone you love?
This is your life,
And you only get one.
Are you who you want to be?
And if you aren’t,
Are you going to do something about it?

Break the mirror
The way you can break your habits.
Forget the seven years of bad luck.
Those who follow the rules go nowhere.
Those who take risks don’t look back on “what if.”

This is your life.
What will you do with it?
This is your life.
Will you tell the truth?
This is your life,
And you only get one.
This is your life.
You only get one.

"Wrinkles reveal this was not the beginning but"
akr 

There were efforts to sling a steeple around a cloud,
to enclose a smoke ring in a palm,
bring a mountain to a riverbed. They failed.

Something of a Pythagorean charm is retained
for garbing oneself in white,
the precision of mathematics
performing beautifully the rites.
To refrain from bean-eating.

One who has held their hands
beating the air
for a long time
gains a kind of theorem for dignity,
despite having no solution to show.

Wrinkles reveal this was not the beginning but
a palimpsest, set over another work so old
the efforts must continue as the equation foretold.

July 1, 2012
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