Mask

It covered her entire face,
as if her features had been smoothed
into mere suggestion, buffed clean
of the flaws and tics of real flesh.

The rest of her body lay uncovered.
One would think her exposed breasts,
her hips, her central nudity
would draw his hungering eye, but

he reached for the blankness
of that false face.
Perhaps this explains cosmetics,
or failed love, or how we cannot connect.

Perhaps this explains sex.