Your cheekbones speak to the camera,
Your beauty travels the miles,
He says, 4,000 nano light years away
Or so it seems.
So you turn your head to a more flattering light
To capture the shadows
That turn you to a classic.
White against the white, white of the sham.
You love to tilt your head and look up
And know the raise of your brow
Matches the curve of you lid,
And you can stare down the lens
4000 mili seconds of miles away.
Or so it seems.
The airplanes don’t travel fast enough, or at all,
4000 kilometers away.