| *loolaville _poetry | |||||
| [Emotions] Of Color Orange is raging madly against red and brown and I shut down, closing off all senses like a fist clenched and I feel it coursing through my veins turning my hot fluid blood to cool coursing copper and when it settles down into my deepest core, pale blue and yellow weep from my eyelids, flowing over and often clinging ot the black of my eyelashes, as black as deathly despair full of empty ache and the absence of all light, until my heart is bruised rough purple and blotched out t he way thick navy ink smears when I lick my finger and rub the saliva across a mark on my hand. But somewhere my soul is merely refined, resting sweetly green like the blade of grass in the summer, and then it grows as watered by the clearness of love, and brings forth flower bursts so beautiful my being can't quite hold them in, so they are released - all these emotions of color - as newly risen buds extraordnarily bright, alive, and full, shouting promise and hope. |
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