Visage

If I could, drivel until I curl up and burn

And weather a wet season, listen to the rains

Sizzle the embers ashes flow on down

Would you do it over on a whim?

Muted eyes, a pale wry

Would you reckon sacrilege or destructive self-pride?

Only til you open the lids upon your visage

Tell me when I come into view, what's the triage?

If I could, take a hit, a mistake, follow-on

But cannot take a hint, a mistake comes undone