Visage

The second day dawns. I am
willing, but tired, defeated some-
what by a display of upfront
honesty. Beautiful honesty, beautiful
people, were they not so
far away.

Maybe they see something my
shifting eyes cannot in
myself. Those eyes in a
mirror that can only look upon
the skin, but haven't the love of
self to pierce it.

Today, I will sit, and I will
brood, as I do. I will look for the
reasons this honesty was not
deserved, but merely a result of my
misrepresentation. A visage. Skin-
tight, it fits too well. Perhaps if I
stand under running water long
enough, it will wash off. Perhaps.