Faces

I have seen a face with a thousand countenances,
and a face that was but a single countenance as if held in a mould.

I have seen a face whose sheen I could look through to the ugliness beneath,
and a face whose sheen I had to lift to see how beautiful it was.

I have seen an old face much lined with nothing,
and a smooth face in which all things were graven.

I know faces, because I look through the fabric my own eye weaves,
and behold the reality beneath.