dear lisa, how does it feel to have
a smile plastered and painted on your face, not unlike
a personality smothered onto you to hide what’s
really inside?
your creator was an artist, drew that subtle smile (a discrete one, in fact)
it hides so many mysteries, leaves me to wonder in awe at your
everlasting smile that shows happiness,
or perhaps even a smile that hides some deep
labyrinth of your soul?
show me, lisa, what your true intentions of that smile,
is it happiness or pleasure? song or art,
concealed behind that smile, those unwary eyes?
share what you’re thinking, dear mona, i promise i will listen with eagerness,
i’ll absorb your thoughts, your feelings of ecstasy and grief.
and you can then hear,
hear with your ears that are hidden behind those deep brown curls,
my story, too.
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