On wondering how to look at a face.

I often wonder about
the right way to look
at a persons face, or how
to look at one's own
face. Is the face a collection
of pieces that creates a single
frame of flawless you-ness or
me-ness? Like a painting or
a coffee mug, incomplete
without paint or mug.
For without the mug, there
would only be the handle;
a thing to hold, to grasp,
to carry. Never enough
to justify the ascent to
nonexistent lips.
Or is a face the very
pieces that create a face?
Each individual hair misplaced
above slightly offset eyes
that swoop and peak to
point the way along a ridge
or road of a nose that sleeps,
each night, beside cheekbone
hills, thundering lip clouds, and
the stained castle gates.
The reason I wonder is because
someone said your eyes are
flawless so I couldn't help but
notice that your eyebrows are
uneven.