Least you go blind.

First brace!

Lock jaw and snout, pout, chest out. The close up.
Look at the reflection in old friend mirror,
It has been an age at least that last I looked.
And all I see is sky grey eyes,
my own. Interred in deep wormholes,
dug in galaxies of toxic waste.

A face of antiquity, Grecian?
a shard of heat hewed
metamorphic stone.
Hard facets sculpted by the bite
of wicked westerly winds
and sun shine on sparkling briny sea.

Amorphous salt air sags,
hags inhabit cracks on brittle bones
of freeze thaw action.
Striation scars brow and mouth.
The stretch and strain,
shouting down the howl of raging northerlies.

A mop of hair more frost than wheat,
a bulbous nose,
gristle broken and repaired by the same fist.
Shoulders and neck that merge and meet
but do not embrace.
Origami steps to a stubble snagged chin-

Gold and silver burnished coins from dirty hands.
Cheeks a grid, a key and map to underground,
veins and blood and curling hair.
A mouth that disbelieves in the voice of youth,
heard in ears that understand only what they wish to,
in folds and flaps of cheese cloth flesh.

Look away.

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