Face My Face
I want to sit next to you
in the rain, watching your face turn wet
with the water of life.
What is it we want from each other?
But our faces, I want your face
to sit in my hands.
I want it to make sense to me
and not be the mask you wear even to bed
with your plastic Tupperware smiles.
I want to see you
and know the feeling of the specs in your hazel eyes
as they see me, seeing you.
There are many me’s
I am many people when I am with you
I sit on five chairs at once then decide to stand.
Who do you like?
Who do you want to take home?
Which one of me calls your name?
This is how we survive, isn’t it?
We find a way to make an expression
that tells a lie, that defines us.
We draw the lines on our face.
We have carve out the scars.
And make our birthmarks bigger.
Who are you in this moment?
What face did you bring to this table?
Don’t break the glass as this is my fine china.
What are you trying to say
with that curve in your lips?
You take a sip of my life and spit it out.
Your dimples will not survive the apocalypse.
Do you have something you want to say to me?
Something about wanting an umbrella in this storm.
About the wind, or the nakedness in which we walk around.
Why don’t we cover our faces?
Why do we let each other see the truth in our teeth?
You know why you know who it is you look like
you understand what you will never look like.
You will never be me.
nina