Your Face

Pausing to examine every utterance
for its internal architecture -- sense

a blueprint of discernible intent --
to catch a living breathing instant in it --

hold it until spent -- to feel it sigh
and die as if it were a tiny fairy in the hand --

to watch its tender brief command disperse
and fall like petals from a flower --

viscerally register its loss of power --
to taste the quantum-tiny black hole

of abyss which must obtain before another
hissed intentionality can take its place --

to see a life withstand eternity precisely
in that grace -- describes your face.


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