Flex my fingers

                crimson, chartreuse, jet, slate, vermillion

Sorted into two webbed seams

                Fans of fuchsia and gold

That twinkle like

                diamond droplets of water

                in the pale starlight

Tucked beneath the flat, jaded leaves

                of the lofty-gazed Baobab tree

 

Most imagine me timid and shy

Quaking in the mountain’s shadow

                as demons dance past

That I snap a camouflage blanket over

my head and freeze into an olivine statue

until the sun paints the purple hills

                with saffron and wisteria

That I fear the warmth of exposure

                Shiver at the thought of being seen

And that is how I obscure myself in

                the woven velvet of a silent twilight

To bend to the wind that whips the sea

To be invisible

 

Yet

My colors change not with the world

                towering above me

But with the dreams and emotions that

                Carry me through it

My outside reflects not my surroundings

                But my heart

Whether that means scarlet passion,

                emerald desire, or honeyed hope

I wear my heart on my sleeve

                And this fills me with pride

 

Because, though I bare a thousand faces

Each and every one of them is

Mine