Brown eyes, black hair.
I want to see you smile at me
With your not-so-perfect teeth.
They say
You've stopped caring
And it's giving me
A headache.
I'm the one
With the bitterness
And mahogany skin
But your hardened hands
Peel off my layers
Like I was born to be
Harvested into paper;
My sap was ink
And my twig fingers wrote you
Sketchy sharp letters.
I stepped back
Only to find you
Clean and tannin-free
And I realized
I had covered
No one but myself
In ebony.
