If each strand of my hair is a bristle

My head is a paint brush,

My forehead is the top of the canvas

Smoothly and vastly drawn,

My eyebrows are the wings of birds 

stroked thick into the canvas flying everywhere,

My eyes are the tops of volcanic mountains

Painted with a cautious hand,

My nose is the curve of a hill

With a delicate ridge on its side,

My ears are the painting palettes  

Holding many colors like jewels,

My cheeks and chin are lovely valleys,

Running smoothly across the canvas.

I am a painting; creative and colorful.