Rice Queen, Making Marks on Paper.

A description of the self.

I see the dexterity of her fingers.

And her cheeks speckled white.

She undresses her lengthy arms

Laced with ornaments

From Siam to reveal

Her skin,

Now,

Dark brown from the sun.

They are marked,

And I see her obsession for scotch tape transparent hair,

Poppy red lips,  and old manuscripts with etchings,

Of sad stories.

She dances to the beats from the stereo,

Then stops to glance in the mirror.

Thinking, it is amusing to draw lines and touch up imperfections.

So she exaggerates,

Accentuating them.

Continuing this madness until,

Her green lashes spill flecks,

Of white rice,

That soon trickle to the floor.