When I was 8
I would draw
stick figures of black and white
standing alone next to a forest
green trees, dandelions, and carnations pink,
swaying in the wind amongst a sunset
orange and bittersweet.

When I was 10
I would draw
twinkling outer space purple mountains
majesty still as midnight
blue bell rings, encompassing all things atomic
tangerine planets and occasionally a piercing laser
lemon electric lime stars streaking through the sky.

When I was 17
I would draw
scribbly doodles run wild
strawberry heart screaming tickle me
pink blush on its face, waiting
for its cadet blush crush
to save it from dreaming in history of jazz
berry jam scents lingering on its lips.