The Colors of Living

I am not unique.

With my dark hair

and dark eyes.

My charcoal grey evidence

of writing hours and hours

of thoughts on paper,

on the right side of my right hand.

Dark brown tree trunk hair

strands, thick and strong.

Sticky colored acrylic paints

tucked under nails,

and cuticles covered

from a painting I finished three days ago.

Illuminated off-white moonglow skin

scars and dimples,

dark craters and all.

Dark eyes change to a light shimmer,

two cola colored carbonated glimmer.

Lagoon blue-green rivers

flow up and down my arms and hands,

pumping burgundy blood

to an unyielding heart.

My brown eyes and white skin

do not make me unique.

With my evident

colors of living,

I am one of many.

An individual.

My brown hair

and brown eyes

make me utterly unique.