Face. (Got Played)

Edit - Written Nov.6, 2007 (myspace.com/vegasboysslim)

"You got the look, you've got the hook,

you sure 'nuff do be cookin'

in my book..."  --Prince.

 

What's in a face

but a smile which also shows

in the eyes,

can see

even now in your performance,

you're faking one for the crowd / the audience

these fanatics who faun

for the freshness of such fevers

and the sudden folklore of face...

 

Proud.

a chin to mint on pennies,

and there are not enough rainy days

for me to save you...

your face,

     what is behind it?

     a scull and thoughts, maybe?

are they of me

the less fortunate of creature-features'

comforts;

 

with such high cheek bones

you could model

(nude even, if you were a lecher)

cover Vogue, Muscle, and Butt

magazines i will follow

with my aging fingers

pages in my mind's constant sight

     over time's cruel staggering

     linger - like your lips tattooed to mine,

how now you ink every nook and cranny

 

strangers with candy, you find worthy

a peck, a pucker on the cheeks

sloppily, i remember,

a f****r, a sucker from last week

here writing, entranced by the mere image

only, confused

and lascivious

abandoned to wonder-land:

     what's in a face?

     i will answer / when

from my mind yours is erased...

such cocktails of hurt

and lies and envy

still / concoctions

     i drink, heavily, with companion - self

destruction,

to avoid you

when i think

     how briefly i made futures

     in paper machete and collage

dreams with sticky make-believe...

 

how beauty has played / me:

hollow wind-chimes by the bay,

by a face...