Tuesday, February 24, 2015


how do i describe something like this?
this odd liquid shimmer
this color unmatched in its many shades?

it's the color of love, of lips brushed with pigment
of sighs, and that feeling of waking up too soon
it's the color of the first tendrils of sunlight
after a dark night
filled with clouds

it's the stammer in the voice of a boy
giving the eulogy
for his father
it's rage

it's the scent of cinnamon
the blush on the cheeks of a young child
being told no, the same blush
for different reasons
on older, wiser cheeks

it's the clinging touch of a lover
the lingering marks from their teeth
the shape of a hand,
whether from hate or lust i do not know

it's the lines on the skin of a sad young thing
who, devastated by something,
seeks destruction

it's the deep, pearl shaped drops
oozing slowly from lily soft flesh
or the swirl of water down the drain
from coloring hair

it's the odd laugh that sometimes
bursts forth at the wrong times,
the varnish on her fingernails,
the hope of a new dawn.

they call it red, crimson, sanguine...
i call it
the color of yes

(c) 2015