There Would Be Crinkles Around the Eyes

Eyes dulled, edged, aged.
Nose slid away and came back less,
said it tried to leave behind harsh scents.
Painless isn’t innocent.
Dagger slice. Printed ice in echoes.
Sculpted tight into rope realities.
Symmetry is still unattainable.
If you run out of paint, highlight the imperfect instead.

Prompts: Cracked
http://vicklinde.wordpress.com/2014/08/10/prompts-cracked/

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