The eyebrow curve
is the signal of night;
stalker’s rest
in his narrow grave
while greying skin
dries out the corpulence
of modern life.

The eyebrow’s arc
is a telling tale:
based on degrees
from the pupil
it regales forensics
of past lovers,
blue, bruised affairs,
festoon of romantic regret.

The coroner announces
his esteemed conclusion:
a broken heart
and the jape and jowl
of the corpse
collapses under inspection,
along with every facet
of the self’s hidden world.

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