Art Gephyr


Black are the rings
around black eyes.
Black are the scars
beneath a black beard.
Black are the strands
of hair long and loose
that tickle a serious brow.

Brown is the skin
of sinewy arms.
Dark are the lips
that press against mine.
Strong is the scent
of the sun and the heat
upon well-weathered clothes.

Dread is the feel
of teeth as they clash.
Dark are the shadows
cast from the east.
Black is my heart
for prejudice cruel
clouding my mind when we meet.