In my child-like
eye I say
white.
Black.
No.
White.
Later in childish
shyness I'll
say
blushing
red.
Seconds later,
in a blick,
a moody moment
my teenage
love turns
blue.
Will I love the color
of an old man's
milky white eyes,
smiling black teeth,
red drunken nose,
and blue cold feet?
I'm still too
young
to abstract
a color
for endless sky
or grind
powdered
dye to paint
a color
love.
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 10:23 PM UTC
In my child-like
eye I say
white.
Black.
No.
White.
Later in childish
shyness I'll
say
blushing
red.
Seconds later,
in a blick,
a moody moment
my teenage
love turns
blue.
Will I love the color
of an old man's
milky white eyes,
smiling black teeth,
red drunken nose,
and blue cold feet?
I'm still too
young
to abstract
a color
for endless sky
or grind
powdered
dye to paint
a color
love.
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