I've seen a face with a thousand countenances
- and a face that was but a single countenance as if held in a mould.

I've seen a face whose sheen I could look through to the ugliness beneath
- and a face whose sheen I had to lift to see how beautiful it was.

I've seen an old face much lined with nothing
- and a smooth face in which all things were graven.

I know faces, because I look through the fabric my own eye weaves
- and behold the reality beneath.