Facial Expressions

Masks we wear, and shed, and wear again, a silent language, etched in fleeting lines. The lift of a brow, a question unspoken, a judgment whispered, a secret known. The curl of a lip, a dismissive flick, contempt's sharp edge, a silent, cutting brick. Eyes, windows, they say, but curtains too, veiling depths of joy, and shadowed, aching blue. A forced smile, stretched thin, a brittle lie, concealing tremors, where true feelings die. The twitch of a muscle, a flicker, unseen, a battle waged, between what is, and what's been. The set of a jaw, a rigid, hardened plea, for strength unseen, for quiet dignity. A blush, a crimson tide, unbidden, swift, a truth revealed, a vulnerable gift. The lines of age, a map of lived terrain, each furrowed valley, a story's lingering stain. We read, we guess, we build our fragile lore, on shifting sands, of what faces hold in store. But are we ever truly seen, or known, behind the fleeting masks, we've carefully grown? ©bfa032725