Beauty Penciled on my English Class Desk

There she is…

Drawn on my desk,
every part of her shaded
with the utmost precision.

The body she sports
voluptuously caresses the shiny surface.
No matter how hard I try,
my gaze returns to her eye,
one is covered by slender frolicking bangs,
but the other stares back at me,
seeming to follow me wherever I tremble.
The pupil should be gray
like the pencil that devised it's beauty.

Instead I find myself confused in color
as if it were refracting rays of sunshine
like a prism laying in the summer sun.

She reminds me of someone...