Take a seat.
Today's lesson will be on
the unwavering, intrinsic goodness of life,
and the eternal joy that love will, no doubt, bring you.
Ha, ha, just kidding.

Today, I will teach you about
the bright red of opium poppies,
of your throbbing arteries,
of Communist Russia.

About the heartbreaking white
of empty paper,
of an unsold wedding dress,
of the moon,
and the dull gray of rained-on windows.

You will learn of uranium's green,
and sulfur's dirty yellow,
and carbon's infinite black.

I expect you to do your homework
on the ocean's desolate blues,
beautiful, until you're swept away,

to answer questions on
the frail pink of my skin,
and the vivid purple of my organs.

Your final exam will be
on hue, and shade, and tone, and tint.
And if you fail, then that is the end of our love.
I will throw you out onto the street,
and you will cry, trembling, ugly.