Ambiguous

I can't ask for a photo- A likeness should be enough from one Living on the brink of each day's depravity; But it's the insides I know, Better than any face or any irregularity That stamps a face by its owner. It's the blemishes we recognize, Not the imperfect harmony of each half- And no face is perfect, they all lack symmetry- And no character is faultless, Though they say it's the faults Causing us to love, in the first place. Besides, I'd know your synapses anywhere, Your generous motives, and how you will blame self first; Whatever the ambiguous features of body might have to say, You always appear pure class, in my imaginings.