Faceless

If, at some point, the day comes
without the sun,
how will you curse it by name?

your face
holds your tears in place.
Without it, how would I know
if rain had not fallen in the night

or that the morning dew was too heavy to
suspend? No, instead

your tears linger like dust in the light—
to show that warmth has a face and
if I were to call to it, I would be calling
your name.

Mark Bias is a new and aspiring writer who is currently studying in the MA program at The College of New Jersey. He was born in Daegu, South Korea, and currently lives in New Jersey.

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