Color

I stood naked before an easel, merely a blank slate before me.
Looking for paint and color to fill in my being.
My skin was pale white and began to fill with color.
First a tan then lighter, bright like the sun.
My eyes became the sky before a storm, a swarm of blues and greys.
My hair the dirt of the earth, warm and luscious and soft.
A long flowing blue dress turned to choppy water that covered me.
This water swept over the dirt and green grew inside the blue.
Slowly the colors expanded into the black shades of space.

(Just so everyone knows this poem is an analogy to the Earth.)