A sneer is projected automatically at a moment,
naturally, flawlessly,
weaved with more past than present.

A sneer hides the tongue, running against teeth
beneath skin curtains, pink and bitten
from the regretted thoughts of Before.

A sneer remembers the scratch marks, red,
the skin still laying under fingernails,
and less how, but why it got there.



A smile is placed delicately, willingly,
though the conscience says otherwise,
erasing history and writing in future tense.

A smile shows what was buried alive.
An accidental discovery, embarrassing
when unveiled to the wrong set of eyes.

A smile forgets the scratch marks, deep
and vanishes when the cold air,
cocky, runs heavily against slits.

Words are lies and silence is more informative
when the smile,
delicate and willing,
follows a natural,
flawless
sneer.

 
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