“Mask-like expression” it’s kindly put
by the literature: a lack
of facial tone hiding age, intention,
pain, delight, and all between.
Stumbling on an album photo
of you at sixteen, I revel in
your parted lips, your teeth,
your lit eyes, your slight dimples.
Today you are my Greek drama,
archaic vizard, masquerade,
your face lending your thoughts
to my imagination.