not pretty clothes or
smells of jasmine and rose
painted cherry
on your parted
once
pale
lips.
not
the brown curls that twist and
turn
round your
olive face
and green eyes
scanning the whole
place.
not
your freckled nose
and soft glowing
skin
eyes scan scan
lashes turned
upward
skyward
painted black.
painted
figure
you walk with grace
tall
slim
you glide
across
the room.
but would you wash
and scrub
and see
yourself
inside.