She said it began with another human.
She wasn’t sure of the gender,
But they were human.
An astral body who had no one else.
She was covered in stardust.
They sat in the clouds of cotton candy,
Too many pastel colors to define;
They gave her a headache.
The other human knew of the headache.
They began to covet that glimmer,
And took it for their own.
In her weakness they stole
That light from her bones.
Her paleness contrasted the clouds
And they gave way to her weight.
She fell and fell and came home
To the water.
It soothed; the headache ebbed.
Her paleness fit with the water,
And the water fit around her paleness.
She remembered the water, the old lover
And embraced it, as it did her.
Then she swam toward me
And asked how to do it
“How do you live?
With no color?”
I didn’t need it, I didn’t want that
“Those colors don’t define life”,
I say and dive.
I dive down, and beneath,
Deep down beneath, is my color.
Fish dart in between the coral
Great plumes of scales dance
There’s a rythym, and that’s life.
The rythym keeps them alive.
I rise, break the surface
And take her hand,
It’s still cold from the air.
The water is a bath, but
there’s a cold spot around her.
I pull her cold hand out of her cold spot
I drag the hand down with me,
then the rest of her body.
She wants to be warm.
She finds that hidden joy below
The rythym begins
To pump her blood again,
Then she pumps it on her own.
She’s warm, and cold
And pale, and full of color.