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my beauty is the talk of the town, the envy of all the

town’s women. it must be so because every time i walk

down the streets, i see the women steal glances at me

and begin to whisper amongst themselves in the way

that lets you know you are the subject of the discussion.

The men look, look away, look again, and look away again

with guilt etched on their faces. They know that they should

not look so closely at another man’s wife, but they are powerless

to stop themselves.

My skin, the color of cream stained with a little chocolate,

glows and tempts lookers to feel it’s soft smoothness. My

hair falls to my neck in beautiful plaited rows. My rounded

hips fan out and roll from side to side as i walk, daring

lookers to challenge my femininity.

The thing that stands out about me the most though isn’t

any of my natural qualities. It is made by man. My man, my husband.

He makes sure that I am always made up, my eyes carrying the

color of his mood. Some days black, other days blue, and

every now and again purple.

Two weeks ago, I spilled some of his beloved beer while

serving his evening meal. This sent him into a mood, and he

painted my right eye blue. It was my fault of course.

A week ago, the mood had been black when his employers

had delayed the payment of his salary. He of course expressed

this on my left eye, leaving it a beautiful shade of black. Again

it was my fault, I should have been more understanding when

he demanded that food be brought from our empty kitchen.

I should have asked the neighbors for some.

When I am careful, and considerate, and patient, he lets

me wear brown on my eyes. My natural, glowing chocolate-cream

brown. I’m spotting a blue-black pair of eyes today, but I’m

hopeful that soon I will master the virtues of a good wife and

then maybe, just maybe I’ll be allowed to wear the chocolate-cream

brown, But until then I will continue to walk around the town

drawing the stares of the town folks, a black eyed beauty.


www.jaymarensworld.wordpress.com
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