I want to be looked at. 

I want to be looked at like others look at the sunset. 

Standing back breathless. 

Admiring my colors. 

The brown and strawberry blonde tinted hues of my hair. 

The blue eyes I could only hope are something admirable. 

The pink rosy undertones of my cheeks

That spike when you’re around. 

Do you look at me?

Do you look through me?

The glass panel that encloses us in a box,

Or the one that separates you from me.

The colors of us. 

What will we be?