In her face excuse Came prologue, and apology too prompt.

Human face divine.

It's no longer in our faces. The lynching is still being done, it's just being done covertly.

Maybe it's more difficult to roll onto their faces with a pacifier, or they could be lighter sleepers if they're using pacifiers.

With faces like dead lovers who died true.

Cheek . . . Flushing white and mellow'd red; Gradual tints, as when there glows In snowy milk the bashful rose.