words | pictures
This face of mine
Is a lot sometimes
These chubby cheeks
And crooked teeth
[And mouth that opens a bit too wide]
But I see you in my smile lines
The lived-in creases around my eyes
From nights when life was too sweet
To sleep
From roaming cliffs at xxxx
Wind whipping salty hair
You’d have loved it there
The air.
So maybe then
This face of mine
That’s yours
Can be my favourite face of all.
Maybe I’ll keep bedding in these lines
And one day find
What you’d look like at 80.
(This one’s for you, Dad.)
