"Oh, You too Kiss Me, My Black Beauty!"

The sapphire iris blinks

The long blonde lashes meet

Against the milky white skin

The hair made up into blonde curls

Her frock with frills

Clearly marking the standards

Her bottom against the cold, hard floor of the

Little plastic box

Her lips pink and her rosy cheeks

With the proud smile stamped against.

"I pick her!"

Those words accustomed to her ears

Come as no surprise

And she looks beyond and below

Over the separating line

And give yet another smirk to the trivial

Yet again, the proud one!

The chocolate brown iris blinks

The long black lashes meet

Against the dim light fall

The hair down into beautiful curls

Her head carrying an invisible crown

Her bottom against the cold hard table

Lined with dust after so many weeks, maybe years

Her hands sore and numb, confined within

Her eyes glazy as she looks through

The tears, through the box.

In came the humble being

With a playful smile on her face

with the white little paper wings

And the gait of a future queen.

"I pick her!"

Her finger towards the dim light fall

The beauty picked up from the line of dust

The young soul kisses

"Oh, my beauty,

My black beauty!"