Color-full Brenda

I am a color-full woman in every sense of the word.
Akimbo and smiling I face the world.
I am a sunrise-
Not that flat crayola yellow and orange
But robust ochre and rouge
Clementine and golden-rod
Rose sweetly lining the tiniest folds of my face
A spectrum in its own right.
I can paint you images of my pastel pensive mind
Display endless landscapes
Or a bowl of fruit ripe with temptation
But it means nothing
If you persist in black and white.

This Mortal Coil or Of the Flesh

The tattooed man would tell you that flesh is a canvas.
The scientist, that flesh is encasement for organs and bones.
The preacher, that it covers the soul and houses sin.
The boy tells me that my flesh is soft and inviting
By painting my body with his eyes
Delineating what is perceived
With an artistic suggestion.
I tell him not many people
Can say “screw art”
And literally mean it.