One shave and you’re
Back in the world,
Two blades rub
Against your face
In a metallic imitation
Of the kiss you miss,
Luckily it’s all electric,
Your hand trembles too much
To hold a naked razor
Against your jugular.

Now you’re the gardener again,
Taking care of yourself,
She would be proud, only
If she was standing in the threshold,
Her face looking back in the mirror
Like a painter placed
Inside his creation, observing himself.

Before you were alive,
But not awake, the world
Had its way with you
And let time sit on your face
To conjure up a brush
Sweeping everyone away.

The engine growls,
The first music you have heard,
And the best, sound independent
Of any passion, of love lost,
It tells you that the bills are paid
And the fuse box is working,
Small joys you had a hand in.

Gently, you are reminded
That there is still creation,
There is time to carve a mask
Or to liberate a chin for the world to see,
Time will bury you soon enough
You can take a moment
To climb out and walk around
Before the gravedigger notices you’re gone,
Your Delilah wanted you to grow these hairs,
She wants to hide how you looked,
She’s done with that man.

Bring him back, bring him out,
And parade him under her window,
Let her know who’s she missing,
Risen from the dead and taking no prisoners,
Including her, you’re harmless,
But she doesn’t know that,
Let her be afraid, thinking of those blades
And what they’re capable of cutting.

One shave and you’re
Back in the world,
Welcome son, and stand
Before the mirror,
Watch your hairs falling
Like black snow
Remember to trim the bushes
Sprouting from the nostrils,
She never liked the sight of them.