Not as they see me,
ignore the flaws that feed my self-pity.
Discount the bruises, the cast iron shackles,
the nostalgic anchors bound to my ankles.
Sketched from behind, so you can't see me cry,
fake charcoal tears cannot be justified.
And from your rear view your gasp breaks the silence,
is it such a surprise to discover I'm spineless?
I want you to draw me before you know me,
I guess I'm intrigued to see how you see me
So I strip off my clothes, as they pool at my feet
I'm stripped of my shackles and anchored deceits.
And I stand there, naked, my legs start to shake,
What do you see in your colourblind state?
You won't see my cheeks kidnapped by a blush,
or the lightning blue sparks though we didn't yet touch.
Lifeless and grey in your fogged imagination
Scared I'll seem dull in your black and white vision.
I want to be painted in shades of crimson,
Monochrome portraits won't portray my passion.
8th August 2013
for Nette Onclaud's 'Softly Sensual' contest