Tracing photographs,
armed to the teeth
with colored pencils,
pretending bronze plates
can be overwritten
beyond the black and white.
Outside the veil, it’s plainly seen
the face has yet to change.
Toying with the features recreates the same,
for in an eyesight’s unwavering light,
imperfections expand in view.
With words swinging from tired verse,
I attack the breaks in doctored romance.
Somewhere beneath is the lurking similarity.
( ❤ Mitch)