Black Eyed Beauty

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