one day
you can forget a face
your own that you brought with you
their own that they painted over you.

left in the drawer,
wrapped in briefs
practicing tired expressions
to no one.

and the world looks at you,
and the face you forgot
and they don't know what to make of you.

absorbed in the world
and apparently self-absorbed you.
peripherally aware of the awareness on you.

there's danger on you:
if you forget your face
maybe you could be nobody
and anybody at all.
and maybe, if everybody saw that
then everybody could be nobody too.

so
someone will shake you down
if you don't hide it
"face reality," he'll say,
"you can never
forget a face."

a statement of
the power of memory,
or its necessity?