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.