My face did not flourish with beauty
Not spoiled with glamour
My eyes told truth
While my mouth told lies

My heart beat was off
Always crashing down like a glowing white avalanche
Thumping like the drummer boy
On Christmas

My body did not spring up
Like a flower on a spring day
It wasn't a creamy color
Like the coffee you make on early Sunday mornings

I hair frail like a old women's bone
Not soft like criminson blood colored velevt rapped around a neck
Thick like a very hot humid summer day
Tangled like your Christmas lights in the basement

But I loved him more then tide who always came back to kiss the sand
More then the kite who effortlessly tried to reach the sky
Then the flower who designed its self in vivid bright colors
So the bees could find there way

Maybe I am the sun who rises every morning to just find the moon has left