I am the black scribbles on the page,
Smears and blots interspersed with tear stains.
The navy sky poked with heaven-holes
Light shining through my perforations
The saffron of sulfur and sunshine
Blink your eyes.

I am the scarlet blood on your wrist
Seeping out, clotting, each cut deeper.
The taupe-grey snowy overcast night
Mysterious and still, lonely, calm
The rose of a young bride’s blushing cheeks
Her first night.

Dark mocha at a hipster cafe,
Served to hipsters and wannabes both.
I’m olive leaves, beginning to turn
Edges browning, curling, and fading
The grey of the long road before you,
Don’t turn back.

The plum of sleep aids you take each night,
Try to forget the painful daytime.
The crimson of the hooker’s curled lips
Disguising the regret in her eyes
I’m creamy roses left to comfort
Ease the pain.

I’m rust-orange hinges on the chest
Brought here by your grandfather, sailor.
The neon lights of your car’s dashboard,
Reminders of speed, distance, and fear
Brown mud you try to wash from your hands,
Clean it off.

I am the mauve of waking in peace,
For once baby slept all through the night.
The silver of your lover’s laughter,
You’ll hold him close as long as he’ll stay
The blue of the marine’s uniform,
Home from war.

I am in the steel grey of past rain,
Yesterday’s storms gone miles away.
The ebony shadows at your feet
Keeping you grounded, grey-blurred edges
The pale blue loss you try to forget
Far and cold.
I am the light you slowly approach,
Oh my love.