complexion…… you are more than that. you are more than just a hue of a color. you are perfection, and my that I mean whole. You are perfectly who you were meant to be. every shade, every ounce of doubt, hope and even fear draw you near to my heart. I cant argue about the way you make me feel. your ture color, your complexion is so real. Some may see only superficial aspects of you but I see deep down to the root of you. not just your complexion, but your every direction, youtve guided me to places of unknown territory. I was unwilling but your complexion, it captured me. and I know that you are more than that. I just cant get enough of that….Complexion!!
some people say that there lives are complex but i dont really know what the word means but i just dont feel like writing about it so im just gonna act like im typing so my mom thinks that im ding school work and stuff but i dont really care that much about school work!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The mask of future identities and past familiarities. Long lost until the day of revealed choice. Complexion can hide inner wounds, frozen fears, and marvelous intensities.
She had that awesome complexion that made me think of roses, like when you are lost in the infinity and death. i was dying, just dreaming of talking to her, she was an angel, but she never looked back. She jumped from the cliff like if she wanted to fly. I wanted to follow her to another universe, to her paradise. And she made it, she flew away from this world, from evil men that loved her and riped her heart. When she destroyed her sublime complexion in the rocks I loved her more. I buried her in my heart for the eternity. The only love I ever knew.
She looked at me with dark smoky eyes. Her skin, smooth and flawless, like alabaster. How I longed for her touch. The feel of her fingers to move along my skin like St. Anthony’s fire, setting me alight and alive.
I wonder if the highly theoretical membranes seperating parallel universes, in the all the “11” hypothesized dimensions, have a unique complexion or random matrix of subparticle distribution, if you will, and would a subparticle of light or some other element or combination thereof provide the perfect measurement/contrast to detect the subtleties between each one. Could you map between dimensions and if you could, how would you navigate the branching paths? Complex calculations are a given. Borges saw it as a labyrinthian library that morphs all around and made it clear that no one could trust their vision. Mirror twins and all strange geometries. The others, the surrealists, they all had their visions and personal mythologies. But lately all I’m seeing are post apocalypses. Maps of overlap from drought to politics. Perhaps I see it as a deck of cards.
The bleaching cream tingled on her delicate skin. When her face began to burn, she clenched her fists and tried to endure the pain. Beauty was pain, after all, and just a few more minutes, she would cease to be too black for the cute guys at the mall.
My complexion? It had been better. Two days no sleep will do that to a fella. My skin was pale. Lifeless, like my city before sunrise. The shadows under my eyes looked like purple clown paint, but I wasn’t laughing. Not when she walked in.
In India complexion is a big thing. It matters a lot whether you are fair. It matters the most if you are a girl and of a marriageable age. The suitors you get will depend on your skin colour. If you are fair you can get good proposals. The same is not true for the boys though. We need to change the mindset of people and get hem to accept all types of skin tone.
I am feared by each woman and few men. I am waters and flesh and pieces of blue and white and black and pink things. Suppose i am like a sheet pulled firm and that makes me whole. Thin and empty, but whole. There is no truth in my heart only visions of eden.
Dazed and tired, she stared into the streaked window of the dimly lit diner. It had been the longest of nights, yet the morning was still out of reach. What would she do, with no place to go and no desire to get there? There was no hiding from the gaze beyond the glass. There was no answer in her stare.
her eyes were yellow, almost glow-in-the-dark. as were her cheeks. a young mother struck by hepatitis, out of the blue. small daughter at home. family crazed with worry. was it a virus? was it a toxin?
Clara wished she could get hold of some makeup for the performance; the children’s sallow complexions were not very evocative of the swans they were supposed to be portraying. But such non-necessities were wishful thinking on the colony, even though the sodium tinted sunlight gave everyone’s skin a greenish hue.
dkin wuslity, colour tone how it looks feels shines For completion lately I have been thinking of cleanseing I am using a natural oil to cleanse the guck off my face and it feels so much better it could be the fact I like all natural.
Complexion is the make up of your face – the way your skin looks, and starts to age. I’m glad not to be oily, over dry, or drabby faced. Complex is the most pressing part of complexion, because we’re all a little complex.
My complexion is sallow.
I never intended to take my skin out into the world,
And let god’s breath give it new blush.
Born in shadow, it’s not my nature to invite the light.
My skin might burst with the colour of love.
A swell of my own sea may rush from out this rupture
and mingle and drown amidst another’s ocean.
Blood rushes too fast for me.
Sanguine was never my colour.
I prefer the low steady pulse of black and bile.
I like a little Melas with my cholor;
My own black and tan Fantasy.
Nothing is safer, more exciting
Than churning the milk of human kindness to a curdle.
Thank you, please, but
I’ll beat myself until I’m Black and bile all over,
And never let the blood seep past my skin
Where another could drink it in.
I’m careful that way.
A whiff of Belly, blood and bone
And the wolves will be at my door
Howling for a taste of more.
I prefer to keep things under lock and key
A life well died,
Spiritus intacta.
Somebodies face that you see everyday. The color of their skin. The color of their personality. A complexion is more than just something we see. It’s something that is felt when you get to know someone over a period of time.
the altitude of our minds
was somewhere on a cliff
so high that I could not
shout warnings about
anchoring them down, but
we were bound to jump
off them, anyway.
She had a beautiful complexion. Ivory, smooth positively radiant. I wished I had a face as glowing as hers was. I wondered what she used on her face to make it so flawless. Maybe she buys that stuff they peddle on late night infomercials
She had a beautiful complexion, that’s all he could think of. Wasn’t that some kind of term his mom used to bring up ? Your skin is so smooth , you have a lovely complexion. Now here the word was coming back to him. It sounded so cliché. But it wasn’t .
The color of flesh was the color of the soul in archaic times, but it has matured to be beautiful beyond words. Different shades of unique melanin fill our eyes with joy to be able to witness something so superb.
Her dark complexion was half hidden beneath her broad brimmed hat. She was careful to keep her eyes hidden from view of the mourners in the room. As each mourner passed the coffin, sobs were heard over the low murmer of voices in the room.
Lila could add no sadness to the situation. She couldn’t be happier that Jed was dead. She was free of him and the freedom felt wonderful. If they could see her eyes and even her smiling deeply stained red lips, they would only see her happiness.
She pulled off her white leather gloves to reveal her dark Cuban skin. His proper family never knew about her. She only came today because she read of his death in today’s paper.
“Did you know Mr. Ward,” his grieving widow asked her as Lila signed the guest book.
“Well, yes, I did.” She hesitated for a moment. “He was the father of my five children.”
the cosmos are complex as shit, just like our own body. So why simplicity is perfection? The truth is that behind every simple idea there is a complex mind. solo follow complexity or avoid the words.
The cream tumbles into the black richness
like your skin when the light dances across
it in the morning
I take in the scent
of your skin
after you sweat in the yard.
Oh my dear my sweetheart
take me
to your earthly riches
the look in your eyes, the stare in your brow
I bestow your move, your love, your frown!
My dear come sneer at me with this beer,
as you can see, I love the way you appear!
and I can admire what you conspire in my jeans,
please, no need, to be obscene,
on the back of my mind a wanderlust, lets flee!
the look in your eyes, the stare in your brow
I besow your move, your love, your frown!
My dear come sneer at me with this beer,
as you can see, I love the way you appear!
and I can admire what you conspire in my jeans,
please, no need, to be obscene,
on the back of my mind a wanderlust, lets flee!
She made eye contact with her reflection and bit her lip, and then she snapped the foundation compact’s lid shut and shoved it back in her purse. Was there any chance, she wondered, that other people DIDN’T see her that way? The flaky skin on her chin, the red cheeks, the spotty nose. Was there any chance someone might someday see her as beautiful?
The freckles in your complexion form constellations that burn when I touch them. Orion’s belt is made of ice. It freezes the skin around my cuticles, to the point in which I am afraid of frostbite. There is a pattern to the contours of your face – the dips create valleys, the peaks your own personal mountains. There is no snow on those slopes, but they are smooth enough to let me descend without tumbling and bruising my knees.
He had a dark complexion, and he was smirking down at me.
His eyes were dark, his gaze was cold, but his lips were curved into a smirk that I never had seen before. It looked dangerous, and I really wanted to get out of his sight. I could barely hold on to the chair when he pulled me up and dragged me with him somewhere only he knew. It was weird, and I had no idea what was happening to me soon.
complexion…… you are more than that. you are more than just a hue of a color. you are perfection, and my that I mean whole. You are perfectly who you were meant to be. every shade, every ounce of doubt, hope and even fear draw you near to my heart. I cant argue about the way you make me feel. your ture color, your complexion is so real. Some may see only superficial aspects of you but I see deep down to the root of you. not just your complexion, but your every direction, youtve guided me to places of unknown territory. I was unwilling but your complexion, it captured me. and I know that you are more than that. I just cant get enough of that….Complexion!!
My complexion is very fair…with plenty of freckles sprinkled everywhere
some people say that there lives are complex but i dont really know what the word means but i just dont feel like writing about it so im just gonna act like im typing so my mom thinks that im ding school work and stuff but i dont really care that much about school work!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
She was like her complexion, quite pure with little scars or injuries and slightly dark humored.
Her complexion was so pale i thought she was a vampire. She had fangs
Ikike
Her complexion was marred, like dots on a map leading away from her history.
The mask of future identities and past familiarities. Long lost until the day of revealed choice. Complexion can hide inner wounds, frozen fears, and marvelous intensities.
She had that awesome complexion that made me think of roses, like when you are lost in the infinity and death. i was dying, just dreaming of talking to her, she was an angel, but she never looked back. She jumped from the cliff like if she wanted to fly. I wanted to follow her to another universe, to her paradise. And she made it, she flew away from this world, from evil men that loved her and riped her heart. When she destroyed her sublime complexion in the rocks I loved her more. I buried her in my heart for the eternity. The only love I ever knew.
She looked at me with dark smoky eyes. Her skin, smooth and flawless, like alabaster. How I longed for her touch. The feel of her fingers to move along my skin like St. Anthony’s fire, setting me alight and alive.
I wonder if the highly theoretical membranes seperating parallel universes, in the all the “11” hypothesized dimensions, have a unique complexion or random matrix of subparticle distribution, if you will, and would a subparticle of light or some other element or combination thereof provide the perfect measurement/contrast to detect the subtleties between each one. Could you map between dimensions and if you could, how would you navigate the branching paths? Complex calculations are a given. Borges saw it as a labyrinthian library that morphs all around and made it clear that no one could trust their vision. Mirror twins and all strange geometries. The others, the surrealists, they all had their visions and personal mythologies. But lately all I’m seeing are post apocalypses. Maps of overlap from drought to politics. Perhaps I see it as a deck of cards.
we have beautiful complexions when we look in the mirror we are all beautiful inside and outside.
The bleaching cream tingled on her delicate skin. When her face began to burn, she clenched her fists and tried to endure the pain. Beauty was pain, after all, and just a few more minutes, she would cease to be too black for the cute guys at the mall.
My complexion? It had been better. Two days no sleep will do that to a fella. My skin was pale. Lifeless, like my city before sunrise. The shadows under my eyes looked like purple clown paint, but I wasn’t laughing. Not when she walked in.
In India complexion is a big thing. It matters a lot whether you are fair. It matters the most if you are a girl and of a marriageable age. The suitors you get will depend on your skin colour. If you are fair you can get good proposals. The same is not true for the boys though. We need to change the mindset of people and get hem to accept all types of skin tone.
complextoin sounds like its complex. very complex complex sounds like it complicated. is that ok.
I am feared by each woman and few men. I am waters and flesh and pieces of blue and white and black and pink things. Suppose i am like a sheet pulled firm and that makes me whole. Thin and empty, but whole. There is no truth in my heart only visions of eden.
Dazed and tired, she stared into the streaked window of the dimly lit diner. It had been the longest of nights, yet the morning was still out of reach. What would she do, with no place to go and no desire to get there? There was no hiding from the gaze beyond the glass. There was no answer in her stare.
her eyes were yellow, almost glow-in-the-dark. as were her cheeks. a young mother struck by hepatitis, out of the blue. small daughter at home. family crazed with worry. was it a virus? was it a toxin?
Clara wished she could get hold of some makeup for the performance; the children’s sallow complexions were not very evocative of the swans they were supposed to be portraying. But such non-necessities were wishful thinking on the colony, even though the sodium tinted sunlight gave everyone’s skin a greenish hue.
dkin wuslity, colour tone how it looks feels shines For completion lately I have been thinking of cleanseing I am using a natural oil to cleanse the guck off my face and it feels so much better it could be the fact I like all natural.
Complexion is the make up of your face – the way your skin looks, and starts to age. I’m glad not to be oily, over dry, or drabby faced. Complex is the most pressing part of complexion, because we’re all a little complex.
In Security
My complexion is sallow.
I never intended to take my skin out into the world,
And let god’s breath give it new blush.
Born in shadow, it’s not my nature to invite the light.
My skin might burst with the colour of love.
A swell of my own sea may rush from out this rupture
and mingle and drown amidst another’s ocean.
Blood rushes too fast for me.
Sanguine was never my colour.
I prefer the low steady pulse of black and bile.
I like a little Melas with my cholor;
My own black and tan Fantasy.
Nothing is safer, more exciting
Than churning the milk of human kindness to a curdle.
Thank you, please, but
I’ll beat myself until I’m Black and bile all over,
And never let the blood seep past my skin
Where another could drink it in.
I’m careful that way.
A whiff of Belly, blood and bone
And the wolves will be at my door
Howling for a taste of more.
I prefer to keep things under lock and key
A life well died,
Spiritus intacta.
Somebodies face that you see everyday. The color of their skin. The color of their personality. A complexion is more than just something we see. It’s something that is felt when you get to know someone over a period of time.
the altitude of our minds
was somewhere on a cliff
so high that I could not
shout warnings about
anchoring them down, but
we were bound to jump
off them, anyway.
She had a beautiful complexion. Ivory, smooth positively radiant. I wished I had a face as glowing as hers was. I wondered what she used on her face to make it so flawless. Maybe she buys that stuff they peddle on late night infomercials
She had a beautiful complexion, that’s all he could think of. Wasn’t that some kind of term his mom used to bring up ? Your skin is so smooth , you have a lovely complexion. Now here the word was coming back to him. It sounded so cliché. But it wasn’t .
The color of flesh was the color of the soul in archaic times, but it has matured to be beautiful beyond words. Different shades of unique melanin fill our eyes with joy to be able to witness something so superb.
Her dark complexion was half hidden beneath her broad brimmed hat. She was careful to keep her eyes hidden from view of the mourners in the room. As each mourner passed the coffin, sobs were heard over the low murmer of voices in the room.
Lila could add no sadness to the situation. She couldn’t be happier that Jed was dead. She was free of him and the freedom felt wonderful. If they could see her eyes and even her smiling deeply stained red lips, they would only see her happiness.
She pulled off her white leather gloves to reveal her dark Cuban skin. His proper family never knew about her. She only came today because she read of his death in today’s paper.
“Did you know Mr. Ward,” his grieving widow asked her as Lila signed the guest book.
“Well, yes, I did.” She hesitated for a moment. “He was the father of my five children.”
the cosmos are complex as shit, just like our own body. So why simplicity is perfection? The truth is that behind every simple idea there is a complex mind. solo follow complexity or avoid the words.
The cream tumbles into the black richness
like your skin when the light dances across
it in the morning
I take in the scent
of your skin
after you sweat in the yard.
Oh my dear my sweetheart
take me
to your earthly riches
the look in your eyes, the stare in your brow
I bestow your move, your love, your frown!
My dear come sneer at me with this beer,
as you can see, I love the way you appear!
and I can admire what you conspire in my jeans,
please, no need, to be obscene,
on the back of my mind a wanderlust, lets flee!
Complexion, a sheet of status!
Like milk, natural and smooth!
Like blind men crossing a train road,
the look in your eyes, the stare in your brow
I besow your move, your love, your frown!
My dear come sneer at me with this beer,
as you can see, I love the way you appear!
and I can admire what you conspire in my jeans,
please, no need, to be obscene,
on the back of my mind a wanderlust, lets flee!
She made eye contact with her reflection and bit her lip, and then she snapped the foundation compact’s lid shut and shoved it back in her purse. Was there any chance, she wondered, that other people DIDN’T see her that way? The flaky skin on her chin, the red cheeks, the spotty nose. Was there any chance someone might someday see her as beautiful?
what speaks to thee eyes but doesnt please most yet capable of revealing al
Complexion is beautiful. Embrace whatever God gave you. Do not be ashamed. Do not try to hide it.
She has a health complexion.
complexion of the wall was a silvery surface like cutlery; the shingle of spoons glittering after a wash.
The freckles in your complexion form constellations that burn when I touch them. Orion’s belt is made of ice. It freezes the skin around my cuticles, to the point in which I am afraid of frostbite. There is a pattern to the contours of your face – the dips create valleys, the peaks your own personal mountains. There is no snow on those slopes, but they are smooth enough to let me descend without tumbling and bruising my knees.
He had a dark complexion, and he was smirking down at me.
His eyes were dark, his gaze was cold, but his lips were curved into a smirk that I never had seen before. It looked dangerous, and I really wanted to get out of his sight. I could barely hold on to the chair when he pulled me up and dragged me with him somewhere only he knew. It was weird, and I had no idea what was happening to me soon.
Her complexion was so much darker than her life.
ds