The truth is written upon the face.

The frown, whose crinkled corners
like a pup eager to please,
rebel against stay-down commands
and somehow slip into the smile
not yet tainted by early morning coffee rituals.

The blush replaces normal pigmentation
with its burning passion overcoming
the will to ‘play it cool’,
It’s heat now learned in a close-guarded secret
with devilish intent to tell the world.

The eyes, content in hiding
behind sarcasm and pillows,
embarrassed by the easy read produced
by comfy couches and sleepless nights.

The heart at a loss ever since
the guard fell asleep at his post
and woke to find dust where walls once stood.
Spitting on the ashes of caution
he walked into the sunset, whispering
“who gives a damn?”