I Am Beige

I Am Beige short poem

Photo by kevin dooley

And painted so
I am instead
Just red

Around the corners of my nose
Where the nostrils bend inwards
Towards the life giving mucus
To germs and what not

I am also
Black with dirt
Under my otherwise
Surgically clean clipped
Finger nails

And the rest of my body
Is white with red
For all the pimples
Exploding outwards
Onto my skin
In a fractured canvas
Of button like blemishes
Meant to draw attention
To my prolonged pubertal state
And to the flies
That might still be hungry
And alive
In this running
Dead of winter

As nearly white as
The beige itself
Whose hues of contrast
Will for ever
Set us apart

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