black or white by Paul Hackett

her black hair,
light absorbing
an absence of colour so intense
my gaze is unable to escape
its gravity
straighter than the crow
than a children's slide
and just as frictionless it falls,
the cruelty of the fringe
equally meticulous
as crisp as paper sheered
in a guillotine,
oyster ellipses so enigmatically brown
pupils barely distinguishable
floating within a bottomless black tarn
enchanted and blessed,
a line of flawlessly straight lozenges,
teeth so white, so straight
barely individual in achromatic harmony,
skin with the effortless regularity
of avocado flesh,
was it black or white?
without blemish
bank note precision,
a roller coaster,
a single 18 inches
of cellulous silver
hangs down through the black thatch
regaining her humanity.

bio: Paul Hackett lives in the Welsh Marches with his wife and is a writer and researcher on environmental issues. As a poet he has had several poems published in magazines, ezines and anthologies. You can reach Paul Hackett at ph@smallestspace.com