These perceptions of perfection,
Pieced together by memory,
Tied up with heart strings and laced by movie scenes-
Like loops of smoothly cut splices,
Knotted together to know what fits without seams-
They way ice cream is spooned in the smooth curve of a stainless steel scoop,
And just as a woman’s hand holds the face of a man, cupped perfectly in her palm,
Mirroring the fit each person finds,
In the bones of another’s face.