A Face the World Forgot to Finish

Frayed at the edges,
as all honest things are 
this face was not painted
but worn into being,
shaped by the slow patience
of erosion
until only what mattered remained.

The eyes are hollow,
not empty but deep 
caverns where light once entered
and chose to stay.

The nose, a narrow passage.
The mouth, a wound
settled into structure 
a doorway no one crosses now,
yet no one closes.

Around it, ochre and shadow spill
at a slant,
as if time itself
cut across this face
on its way through.

Paper tears.
Stone fractures.
Images fade.
And still 
the face endures.

This is what remains:
not beauty,
not wholeness,
but what breaks
in just the right places
to be remembered.

Object number

013.041