Bow your head, angel, <br />Guide my lips to your crown, <br />Keep them far from your face, <br />Far from the battleground. <br /> <br />All the kisses to your face, <br />Eleven years worth, stockpiled, <br />Can't stop the threat. <br />The medicine, <br /> <br />Not my love, <br />Will save your beauty. <br />It'll fight for your beauty to the death. <br />If your face should catch fire, <br /> <br />I promise, I promise, <br />Your eyes will dance around the heat and <br />Your smile will bloom through the flames. <br />God loves you, I love you. <br /> <br />We both know my dream of perfection for <br />You is dead, yet we talk of it until <br />Our eyes cloud over, our voices fade <br />And your hand slides from my palm. <br /> <br />You'll have to work so hard, so hard to <br />Rekindle the vision I had for you. Trash the <br />Talk of inner beauty, love and the glow from <br />Within, I'd sell your soul to guarantee you <br /> <br />Perfect skin. Forgive me in advance for <br />Imagining you at your worst while you're at <br />Your best, for walking with you hand in hand <br />And imagining your face turned inside out.<br /><br />Francis Santaquilani<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/acne-vulgaris/
