Do you see the reflection of my face?
It is red. Simply red.
I care not to change it, it can be red
If red is what it would like to be.
Unreadable red—the stereo type
Of love and of passion.
I am sick of such redness—
This red I am not.
Can you see my fight inside?
It is orange, simply orange.
It is fiery and weird—
The orange place I have not explored
Orange, orange is my indecision
Orange peels in my place
In my burlap stomach
Orange my guilt.
Can you see the light on my chest?
It is yellow, simply yellow.
Yellow like sun in January
When grey passes.
Joyous yellow, where marigolds play
Where milk is churned to hope
And where smiles wade,
I roll in yellow.
Can you see the rage in my eyes?
It is green, simply green.
Green like emerald glens
And raggy earth.
Seductive green, my flute
My dancing color
In gentle waving grass
My green bed lies.
Can you see my shallow cheek?
It is blue, simply blue.
Blue like frost bitten morning,
All a’ sparkle
Patient blue, the color by which
My skin is velvet.
Blue interrupting my eyes—
Inconsiderate blue.
Do you see my sagging arms?
They are purple, simply purple.
Purple like complacence.
My purple love.
Pristine purple, holding on
To all it tends
My confidence, sweet,
Dearest purple.
Sep 5, 2011
Sep 5, 2011 at 11:20 AM UTC
Do you see the reflection of my face?
It is red. Simply red.
I care not to change it, it can be red
If red is what it would like to be.
Unreadable red—the stereo type
Of love and of passion.
I am sick of such redness—
This red I am not.
Can you see my fight inside?
It is orange, simply orange.
It is fiery and weird—
The orange place I have not explored
Orange, orange is my indecision
Orange peels in my place
In my burlap stomach
Orange my guilt.
Can you see the light on my chest?
It is yellow, simply yellow.
Yellow like sun in January
When grey passes.
Joyous yellow, where marigolds play
Where milk is churned to hope
And where smiles wade,
I roll in yellow.
Can you see the rage in my eyes?
It is green, simply green.
Green like emerald glens
And raggy earth.
Seductive green, my flute
My dancing color
In gentle waving grass
My green bed lies.
Can you see my shallow cheek?
It is blue, simply blue.
Blue like frost bitten morning,
All a’ sparkle
Patient blue, the color by which
My skin is velvet.
Blue interrupting my eyes—
Inconsiderate blue.
Do you see my sagging arms?
They are purple, simply purple.
Purple like complacence.
My purple love.
Pristine purple, holding on
To all it tends
My confidence, sweet,
Dearest purple.
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