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

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