I have brown hair
I pluck my eyebrows
I have my mother's eyes
my mother's hands
I have white teeth
and dark eyes
I play piano...
I like the color of wine
But my hair is still brown
and my teeth are still white
and I probably won't always like
the color of wine
I have firm breasts
I have lips that try to smile
I have veins that bleed
I laugh when I'm nervous
I feel the pain of others
and sometimes I cry for no reason
I like open flame
I've been selfish since a child
I'm from New England
but hate the cold
I've cheated on diets
I've faked applications
But I still bleed
and my lips still smile
and my breasts won't
always be firm
I have strong legs
I have pale skin
I have an Irish face I
borrowed from my grandmother
I have long nails
My little toe is strange
I write and I paint
I used to make wreaths from forsythias
I braid my hair before bed
I've cheated on tests
I faked flirtatious French accents
But I still have pale skin
and my nails still break
and I probably won't always have
strong legs
and I may not always write
But maybe I'll start
making wreaths
from forsythias again....
