THE LACE OF LIPS

Regardless of the rejoicing
the richness of our raiment reaps
what remains etched upon our face's expressions
truly glistens from the vestments in our heart.

We might labor to clothe our moments
in vanity's dazzle and display,
but it is that permanence of our fleshly mask
which was sculptured within one's mind
that truly shines from the thoughts and desires
simmering in our secret emotional cauldron.

Sometimes, when swallowed by sorrow's shadows
our real reflection burns our image's pores with truth's acid
till we temporarily discard our social caricature of facade
allowing the veins of our real essence
to protrude, if only for a fleeting confession.

In each passing season of heartbeats
do we romance the garb of acceptance
hoping to dress in the appropriate pristine attire
ensuring us the chance to hear the dulcet thunder of ovation.

Yet, we are never able to adequately accessorize
through cosmetic forgery or fashion's fickle flare
what we see in the mirror
changing it into a more perfect definition our fantasies
than is revealed by
the lace of lips.