Cynic Season

Face,
is war's aftermath, scars and lines galore.
Oh one half's fine, stood the test of time,
the other,
always turned just so, an illusion of sharpness,
a smile,
that's halfway a laugh, still needs getting used to.
eyes,
feigned light for the shutterbug, smile, not convincing.


Eyes, that call out to him, words unnecessary,
a face,
that warms his nether places at night,
cyber titillation is passe, or so he says.
lips,
taunt him, make him ache to seal with his,
pre-pubescent stubble notwithstanding.


Sexy, he said.
True?


This is Poem 7 for Robert Lee Brewer's April Poem-A-Day Challenge 2012. 

The prompt for this poem is a "Season" poem

This one's self-explanatory.