By Gala
Date: 27 April 2000
Unfair Of You to Peek
Oh, this is not a love poem---
but a question, and maybe a complaint.
I want to know just when you slipped into my skin,
tried on my heart,
and then painted
everything you saw with my eyes,
or felt with my spirit.
How did you mix the colors
from the palatte
of my feelings,
and oh why did you splash them
so beautifully
that the world would long
to know my deepest wish
or saddest moment?
I see your art,
and feel myself laid bare
knowing we have walked
the same steps
tasted the same fruit
and treasured the same dream.
A world apart.
A life apart.
But you are my sister---
and I cannot wait to see
the next brush stroke of my life
dance off your fingers
for all the world to see.
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