The last time this face appeared it had an accent, one I couldn’t place. Which was quite strange, as the face never speaks. I think if it did it would tell lies, soothing truths masquerading as comfort. It’s not like I have a thin skin, but I don’t particularly care for smoke and mirrors; either speak plainly, or shut the hell up. But wait…you don’t speak. (The face nods, and floats off into the dark to fuck with the cat.)
I wonder if it watches over me while I sleep. I wonder if it watches me sleep. I wonder if it sleeps. I wonder if it would ever sleep with me, or merely find its way onto the face of the next lover, a jarring surprise, when I open my eyes. Oh! Oh. Oh…it’s you.