Has anyone ever told you
that your skin is the color of soil?
Yes.
Okay, but has anyone ever told you
that your skin is the color of the morning coffee I wake up for?
Yes.
And has anyone ever told you
that your skin is the color of the milkiest of chocolate or
expensive leather or
cobblestones under a street lamp or
acorns or
bronze or
my mother’s eyes?
I have been told all those things.
Yes, but have I told you
that your skin is the color of soil?
And have I told you
that sometimes I wonder,
if I kiss it enough,
if I water it with my lips,
will flowers burst and
bloom and
blossom making a
garden of a man?
that your skin is the color of soil?
Yes.
Okay, but has anyone ever told you
that your skin is the color of the morning coffee I wake up for?
Yes.
And has anyone ever told you
that your skin is the color of the milkiest of chocolate or
expensive leather or
cobblestones under a street lamp or
acorns or
bronze or
my mother’s eyes?
I have been told all those things.
Yes, but have I told you
that your skin is the color of soil?
And have I told you
that sometimes I wonder,
if I kiss it enough,
if I water it with my lips,
will flowers burst and
bloom and
blossom making a
garden of a man?