Illiterate.

I’m staring at you
daring you to see
eyes the colour of
ferocity and lust,
a mouth outlined
in anger and a love of
the absurd.
Eyebrows that draw
cynicism, nostrils
twitch to show a lie.
But you smile with
no meaning,
a flicker of confusion.
You have not read
me.
I am no more special
than any other face-page.