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A world of black and white (rondeau)

She lived in a world of black and white
He lived for her; watching, waiting, for madness to ignite
Like a match, she sparked in front of a dusk covered mirror
She stood ablaze, smashing, bashing, to see ever clearer
The glass now broken, shattered, potent, flew a shard out of sight

Oh how she screamed! “The pain, the pain!” He stood there still despite,
the blood that dripped, bubbled, slipped, draining all her forborn might
And the blood was red! Oh, how very red! Could it be any queerer?
In a world of black and white?

Lions, tigers, elephants, stretched out of the gash; he stood quite contrite
They walked, they looked, in rainbow colors, unknown to the colorless light
She and he, they watched them go; and as they did he turned to her
“Savior! Mother! Of all color! Could you be any dearer?”
She sat and she smiled, content and mild, and full of sheer delight
In a world of black and white



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