If I were your maxilla,
I’d widen your world—
a forward sweep of perfect projection,
carving light and symmetry
into every angle of your smile.
If I were your mandible,
I’d grow you forward with quiet confidence,
a sculptor shaping strength
into the lines of your jaw,
gonial angles drawn like constellations.
And if I were your eyes,
your IPD would settle at just right—
a measured inch of harmony,
framing the universe between us.
Your face would fall
into equal thirds,
a study in balance,
a geometry of grace—
and I, somewhere in the structure,
would be the quiet art
behind the beauty.
(The base was made by me the rest is chatgpts hard work)
