Porcelain
Her skin
is of porcelain--
smooth and matte
and cold
like winter snow
Her eyes
are lifeless--
dead and empty
and gray
like a thick, foggy day
Her lips
are crimson--
blood like and thin
and refined
like velvety, red wine
Her voice
is delicate--
soothing and gentle
and faint
like the mizzle of spring rain
This poem is about:
My community