I laugh at the young light
and gift colour full rein
cover the ground at speed
flex the holy spectrum
into deep infernal textures
boldly release hinted hues
hidden to the casual eye
stroke my rivals into life
created at the break of day
capture unnatural advantage
in this leg of the human race
to reach God's rest
at the creation's edge

My favourite colour is snow blue
The colour you see when snow reflects the sky
It’s a cold colour, yet it makes me feel warm

My favourite flower is the smeraldo
It stands for the truth that couldn’t be told
It’s a fictional flower, yet it’s the prettiest for me

My favourite person is my best friend
They are my light and my darkness
They don’t treat me well, yet I love them

Colour is dangerous;
you fall into it.

And colour can swallow you,
and like music it is super emotional.

It is hard to stay distant.

Dip your poets brush in words
give me the east wind
the smell of snow beneath my feet
heavy yellow summer heat
splashing rain upon a roof
sketch me proof, or lies, or pain
draw me a sound I will not hear again
paint me a picture, for the things my eyes cannot see

a perfect canvas can get away with anything,
even destruction.
nothing done to it will destroy it, only make it shine.
add this, and add that.
pile on all the things that made everybody else undesirable.
instead of revolting, you become art.
was it a transformation of the hands or one of the eyes?
it’s like you had become adorned with colour and shine
instead of a veil to hide your reality.
the blandness beneath,
or the stark truth behind you.

mayhap it was a transformation of the heart.
it seems as though one may have bartered their life
just to be worthy of a glimpse
for five more minutes.
perhaps not merely a glimpse,
more, a lifetime.
what is it about

Pallet is just a trick of the light
Echo a deceit
All we have is reflected
- for all that
it's no less sweet

Dawn: the world takes on

colours, becomes lifelike, but --


remains elusive.

Colour blooms
Onto a canvas of black-and-white impressions
Left behind are brush strokes from the blues and greys
Overlayed are the yellows and pinks
Flowers drift left and right
A sunset glows until dark
Transforming into midnight bokeh
With every blink, something new
A painter paints
A thousand places all here at once
A thousand dreams
A thousand wonders
All here, in the colour of you