I Have Loved Faces I Will Not See Again

I have loved faces I will not see again -- faces of sand and earth, faces steeped on mountain tops, faces lilting on ocean bottom, faces resting at the mouths of streams. I have loved faces I will not see again, mirrored in my empty palms. I have loved faces I cannot reach falling away between my fingertips; faces stirred by idle winds and the sad shifts of the tide. I have loved faces I will not see again. Though I cannot remember them each -- restricted lips, disciplined nose, questioning eyebrow -- they are all here. They are expanded and shifted into my body -- in my jutting hip, the taut skin of my neck, the clogged valves of my heart. Their expressions are contained in my cheekbones and the crevices beneath my eyes. Though my glance may neve rest upon their features, they are here -- in my sacred bones, my eiderdown skin -- in my gypsy hair.