Retinol
A poem
Skin chips, dried plaster aged in sun Swelling, softening, pilling, spun Pores shrunk, its only true witness The observer, meticulous in ritual examination Shriveled, luminescent, then discolored Freckled from youth, folded from stress Tightened painfully with future impurities Present alone to she who feels first Lizard shed peeled from the valley Between nostril and plump, porous cheek Oiled, yet arid – mocking in contradiction. Perfection’s pursuit requires a purge Days pass, then weeks, cycling Improvement giving way to regression. Nails pry between dry blemish and new flesh, Revealing blood, always blood.