Faces

I have seen a face with a thousand countenances, and a face that

was but a single countenance as if held in a mould.

I have seen a face whose sheen I could look through to the ugliness

beneath, and a face whose sheen I had to lift to see how beautiful

it was.

I have seen an old face much lined with nothing, and a smooth face

in which all things were graven.

I know faces, because I look through the fabric my own eye weaves,

and behold the reality beneath.