Color Girl

Color Girl

She smiles.

Subtly.

You can’t even tell she’s smiling.

But she is.

I can feel it.

Those debatable lips

are cherry red

over

bubblegum pink.

Her nose is no more than a

blue line

a very long U

barely visible on her

yellow face.

But it doesn’t matter.

Her eyes make up for it.

They are olive green

with small little dots

in the center.

Under them is black.

But not the staying-up-to-late-writing-poetry

type of black.

Coal black

popping against the whites of

her eyes.

On top

orange-red

then coal black

then olive green.

Framing her rounded face

is a hailstorm of

shoulder-length color.

Without the shoulders.

The base color is a deep red

but there are lighter shades

as well.

Streaks of sour lemon yellow

contrast nicely with

the dabs of almost-black-blue.

The hailstorm is outlined by orange-red.

Yet it all blends together

just as much as each color

stands apart.

The background is indescribable.

One color

A thousand colors

but in one color.

A type of purple-that’s-not.

A contrast to her skin

that goes to well to be contrasting.

And she’s smiling.

Ayelet Schrek