imperfection

coffee stained teeth and paper chapped lips
(portrait of MYSELF)
an inch deep dimple and a hint of a grin
(portrait of love)
a canine and a smirk for imps
(portrait of death)
imperfection, what do you seek?

perhaps to taint the simple image of love, answered it
perhaps to conquer the wholesome idea of death, it mused
imperfection; like how the hair slips in the corner where your neck meets your shoulders imperfection; like how porcelain broken your eyes taunted

a grey and pink remix of blossoms
your love bite amidst cotton (imperfection; for silk always seems better)