A color capable of holding emotions as magnificent as the stars shining,
like diamonds in the spread of the sky,
yet holding a thousand shade of sadness.
The sky which holds people's lives between its palms and
sways left and right and
have its clouds riot.
Don't turn that color into a darker shade and bring down on me your tears and pain.
Don't reflect that tormented color in me.
But she does it anyway and
I wake up in the middle of the night
clenching my fists and gasping for a single breath
of relief,
of air.
Of air that is not tainted with the shades of that color.
But she does it anyway and
it turns me into a puzzled mess that makes me unable to differentiate,
to hardly be able to tell the different shades of pain
or love or anything in between.
The color that
ruins me.
But the same one that revives me.
The color of my lover’s eyes, so bright they look like
sapphires on acid.
The color that huffs its paint inside of my throat and
suddenly: I am able to live: and to love: and to be.