Dabble the sponge in sparkles of brown — perhaps black,
Softly sweep as you paint across the eye and back
Keep drawing as soft etchings and pencil sketchings further define
The subtle hairs of your lashes, with ink fringing the eye line.
Today, this shall be you, as true as a mirror could be true
Granted with a new face; an old identity to efface
No longer as I was before, I ponder
As the sun rays seeped through my pores.