I heard the concrete
and remembered singing summer,
artificial sugar tunes,
and your eyes, copper sublimed.
I was
as the sky is
I belonged to the afternoon
where you counted clouds
and named me
Blue.

I spent my nights
with the lions
where the colors were the yellow
of kings and of your hair
against your shoulder.
I couldn’t help but remember to draw
the lions in escaped canary
yellow and
your smile because you
were beautiful my dear, brilliant
my dear.

I learned too young
that no one ever looks up.
I leaned too young
that people weren’t made to see in Technicolor
I heard the concrete
in your voice. So I brought
you rainbows
because concrete is too grey.
I decided
I would be the concrete too,
be grey, like you.