Death Mask

You’re beautiful.

There’s no escaping it.

Your eyes wide,

trying to see all time

in a glance.

Your nose,

delicate and perfect,

drawing in each breath

with graceful rhythm.

Your lips,

soft as they could be;

warm,

and forming words

of truth and poignancy.

 

My eyes,

my heart,

my soul;

uplift upon your presence.

The world springs into vibrancy

when you speak,

or laugh,

or sing.

Time is our only enemy.

Beneath that striking countenance;

high cheekbones

and smooth brow

of your ultimate visage.

 

You’re beautiful,

but we all go

with the Boatman.

Your youthful skin,

will wax,

and wane,

and slack.

After we are gone,

only the beauty of our bones

will tell the tale

of who we were.

 

So, beauty starts

with good bone structure,

and once our shining days are done

and we reach the edge

of this ephemeral sea,

we leave our beauty behind.

Death masks,

worn for the ride.

 

You’re beautiful.

You will always be beautiful,

in this world,

or the next.

Wearing this mask,

or another.

You have great bone structure.

 

HG – 2019

 

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