A look at her bronze skin
Too dark, too light
Blemishes and imperfections in crystal clear sight
Layers of someone she doesn't know
Shades of gold, cream and brown flowing across her face, the harsh touches of the brushes
Coloured cloths of silk and chiffon
Bejewelled in sapphires, rubies and amethysts
Light dancing across the tiny mirrors glued on
Embroidery thread used to design
Satin blouses and yards of fabric
Soft like velvet, covering her skin
Noisy jewelry ringing in her ears
Gold rings heavy as twilight nears
Chandi anklets with small tingling bells
Her ears feeling as if they're going to fall off, too studded with diamonds
cuffed bracelets crowding her hands making her feel as if she were chained
Too many pins poking her head, she senses an upcoming headache
The headpiece feels weighted like a boulder
The dupata is itchy against the back of her neck
Patterns upon patterns of brown-green paste
People fawning over her trying to make out the name
A deep red hue coating her skin
jasmine, cardamom and lotus flower
Chandi (silver) | dupata (a scarf)
YOU ARE READING
Cursive
PoetryA poetry book Random poetry pieces I put together at 3 am Cursive and poetry feel connected.
