Note the one long crease from brow to chin. Gaunt.
Giacomettiish even, wouldn’t you say?
Slivered cheeks sucked in as if some tart pill
dandled on the tongue unseen. Two flat ears
with bristles fiercely drawn to either side.
A face in single file, as it were. Rent.
Lover of schisms and chasms, raptures
and ruptures, anything prefixed with bi.

Face like a testament. Face like the Nile.
The nose a perfect slope of downwardness,
or upwardness, if you prefer—Rembrandt
(minus the flesh). To your right, up the stairs,
you’ll see why we are absolutely mad
for our new wing. Shall we move on then? Yes?