Flesh

All skin, bone, and flesh, protect my fragile innermost. But that is deception at its norm. What color does the truth hold? Black on the whitest of white Words are the frame and flesh I bear and the tan colored shell I wear For my heart is not my sleeve but is The subject-verb construction That I am. My imaginative power dictates what I become. I am the letters that beautify and tattoo the absent colored paper with My ideas and emotions. The black that paint, define, and shape me are not to be taken lightly. I am bold and defined as the powerful nighttime color. A mirror no longer knows the qualities I hold; For it is the mere reflection of light.