191
Sonnets From Other Lives: Perry & Helen

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of the scar
that marred the otherwise classic proportions
of the woman in the subway car.
From eye to jaw it ran—like the distortion
of a cracked mirror—the pieces didn’t fit.
That face could be on any magazine cover—
made up—coiffed—really he could see it—
the jagged tear would be photoshopped over…
He thought no doubt she sensed his covert stare.
His fascination could not be original.
She’d be good at pretending not to care
about unwanted attention. All subliminal
cultural signals we use to define allure
were rendered irrelevant by her.