are droplets of brine
strung as beads
hung over the cavity
of my black chest.

The sparkle in my smile
is a palette of metallic red
painted on with a wand
thick as a loaf of bread.

The wave of my arms
is as a pendulum weighted
down and fixed on the hour
living in a cherry tower.

The swing in my hips
is a **** on a vane
that swirls in the direction
of a fickle wind
and swings back again.

The spring in my step
is from a pebble that sits
in my shoes and rolls around
as I move.