When You Ask Should You Leave Him by John Grey

I’m thinking of retiring this forehead.
It’s too obvious for normal every day téte-a- téte
My hand is constantly brushing
away the hair that disturbs
its fleshy throne
And when 1 lie to you,
I do believe it weighs down on my eves
If I accidentally speak the truth,
it expands, sends reinforcements
to my ageing scalp.
It’s a giveaway in other words.
as much as flushed cheeks, stuttering tongue,
and less in my control.
I can’t be the nihilist who says.
do what you feel
when it’s so structured, so formal.
But I can’t say do what is right either.
when its lines twist and curl.
like my abandoned lovers
scribbling their names.
Sometimes I think
that if I had no face at all.
this would be easier.
Advice could come from the chest you hug.
the fingers you grip.
even the legs that move
so you can follow
The forehead is the soul’s window
that’s the problem
The sweat divides its time
between rain and tears.

John Grey

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in New Plains Review, South Carolina Review, Gargoyle and Silkworm work upcoming in Big Muddy Review, Cape Rock and Spoon River Poetry Review.

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