I like to think
That my hair
Is made of strands of hay
And cotton

Woven together beautifully
To form a bit of spun
Gold

I like to think
That my eyes
Are made of chestnuts
And moss

Pruned with tender loving care
To form a
Masterpiece of living beauty

Reflected Back with a
Curious gaze at you

I like to think
My lips were carefully painted
By God
To be a daunting
Ruby red.

But I know I am
Paled
I know I am greeted now
Dulled

No one wants used clothing
These days anyhow.