Your smile makes some wrinkles, but your frown
engraves you ugly. Horizontal lines
can be accepted; it’s the up and down
that carves a witch. We recognize the signs
of bitterness, perpetual complaint,
and self-directed needy attitude.
Your scowl drags your cheeks, and stripes in faint
remarks an upper lip of foul mood.

I’ve watched your smile make your eyes expand.
It smoothes your skin; it rounds your face; it turns
a corrugated mouth from bitter, bland,
or angry to an arc of glee, and burns
a brand of beauty it took years to form,
exquisite as the love that kept you warm.